


The Winner's Circle

by saving_grace44



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:27:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 28,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26772166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saving_grace44/pseuds/saving_grace44
Summary: Two Nike athletes walk into a sponsored event...Tobin Heath had all but decided that soccer was her one true love and Christen Press was on the brink of walking away from her tennis career until one fateful night at a Nike even in Portland.
Relationships: Tobin Heath/Christen Press
Comments: 120
Kudos: 673





	1. Chapter 1

Tobin always thought there was nothing like the energy surrounding a soccer match. A stadium full to the brim with fans, 25,000 strong chanting, drumming, and singing to urge the home team onwards. In her mind, there was nothing better. The stadium and pitch literally vibrated with euphoria. Three World Cup Finals had shown her what true fan participation was and how it could dynamically change a match. She would take it to her grave that a full soccer stadium was THE ultimate player experience for any athlete.

This was all until she found herself seated in a court side box at Arthur Ashe stadium center court waiting for the start of the US Open Final.

This was actually only the second match she got to watch of the whole tournament, and surprisingly, only the first time she got to attend it in person. And even the first round match she watched was nuts. But the atmosphere building around the final, well it was nothing less than insane.

Tobin grew up a massive tennis fan, watching the likes of Agassi, Sampras, and Serena Williams when she first got going. She and her siblings would race to the courts of her grandfather’s country club every summer day in Rhode Island. Staying for hours, making up games when they were little and eventually competing as they got older. There still is an old marble notebook of all the results from each match played for 6 straight summers. Tobin was near unbeaten. She always said if she didn’t become a soccer player, she would have pursued tennis. And, now here she was, center court at the US Open.

The audience interacted with the game on such a visceral level in tennis. It was if they shared the same breath. Utter silence as the ball was tossed for a serve, gasps at the speed and sound of the ball coming off the racket, held collective breath during an intense rally, and an explosion of joy when a point was won, no matter which player scored. The ebb and flow of emotions was palpable through the crowd, they were just as much a part of the match as the two athletes no the court. Tobin realized that this rarely happened in soccer. For her, the crowd was a dull noise, a static line through her focus. But here, the crowd was truly a living being.

For all the amazing sporting events she had attended in her life, she knew this would be the most special. She knew this one would rank among the greats - the Super Bowl, Premier League Championship, hell even the three World Cups and Olympics that she played in.

This.

This moment, this tournament, this match, would go down as one of the greatest moments in her personal sports history.

Just as she was taking in all the sights and sounds of the crowd finding their seats before the players entered, a familiar face plopped into the seat next to her.

“Gosh, no matter what stadium, what event, what city, the ladies restroom is always an absolute disaster” Tyler bites as she pulls disinfectant out of her purse to apply to her hands. “As a gender, we should agree that we should not pee on public toilet seats and leave it there. It is just totally unnecessary. We can do better!” She is all but screaming towards the other women in the stadium. “Mo is lucky I love her enough to subject myself to that.”

Tobin cackles, “You’re totally right, Ty. Even I can admit women can be pretty nasty, and I have certain proclivity towards the gender as a whole, so you know if I am saying it, then it's true!”

“Easy about your proclivity towards a gender, I am pretty sure you have a proclivity towards one woman and one woman only.” She swats at Tobin’s arm before glancing at the court, “I am so glad I didn’t miss the entrances, it is honestly my favorite part.” She reaches out and takes a pull from her beer, before grabbing her cell phone to start recording the crowd. “While I am on a complaining kick, for $12 this beer could also taste better.”

Tobin chuckles at Tyler’s antics and unconsciously runs her hands over the tops of her thighs, feeling herself getting anxious for the oncoming moment. She had been at tennis matches before, but she had never been on hand for a championship match of this magnitude. The young buck facing the ultimate comeback story. The newbie from Canada against America’s sweetheart.

She feels grateful to be seated in a box which offered her a bit more privacy and personal space. After the World Cup this summer, and in particular her individual performance, she has become more recognizable to the casual sports fan, and tonight wasn’t about her. She wanted to be solely focused on the tennis and not distracted by fans asking for pictures and autographs, that could all wait. She knew the cameras would be flashing and zeroing in on her and she was sure social media was already flooded with photos, but she could care less. This moment wasn’t about her.

“Ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to historic Arthur Ashe stadium and to the 2019 US Open Women’s Final!” Tyler jumped to her feet and started screaming and focusing her phone on the entrance nearest them. Tobin laughed at the other woman, as she too got to her feet and started rhythmic clapping with the crowd. “Please, direct your attention to the player's entrance as we introduce our competitors. First, with a current world ranking of 15, hailing from the great country of Canada, please put your hands together for Bianca Andreescu!”

The stadium filled with polite applause and even some raucous cheers, as this relatively unknown 19 year old had worked her way through the ladder and found herself on this momentous stage, all while taking down some of the most well known names in the game. Tobin politely clapped, though the hooligan in her wanted to boo and show her loyalty to the other player, but she had come to find out that tennis isn’t that kind of sport.

Andreescu takes her seat next to the referee and begins to get her rackets out for the match, and the crowd begins a slow rumble knowing they will introduce the American playing next.

“And now representing the United States of America, get on your feet for Christen Press!”

Now Tobin let her hooligan show. Going wild for the tennis player entering the arena, almost as wild as Tyler, but no one could match the spirit of a proud older sister.

Christen was beaming up at the crowd. The large Wilson bag thrown over her shoulder, large enough to make it seem comical that someone of Christen’s stature could even carry the thing. But, as Christen always said, she has muscles that are used for tennis, and nowhere else.

Strong, athletic quads and hamstrings that give her power and quickness off her feet. Flexible, pliable wrists that allow her to snap the ball across the court. Broad shoulders and cut biceps giving her gusto in her crosses. All put on a very tiny frame. A frame Tobin couldn’t rip her eyes from.

It will never cease to amaze her how magical Christen is. There was no other word that could describe the tennis player's presence. But, for Tobin, it was almost like time stopped when she saw her. Her bright, white smile. Her meaningful looks to her adoring fans. And then it happened, what always happened when they supported each other at events, they locked eyes. Christen’s bright green orbs attached to Tobin’s honey ones, shifting to a stormier gray because of the intensity of the stare. She held them for a moment, before blowing a kiss, that could have been to anyone, but Tobin knew was just for her because it was sealed with a signature (though Tobin would call it terrible) Press wink.

Tobin blushed, and Tyler laughed at her reaction. It was no secret the two were dating. Once they started to be spotted out and about together, at each other’s events, and inevitably on social media, they couldn’t really explain away their relationship because they had no reason to be “just” friends. While some athletes' paths naturally crossed often, maybe they played in the same city or had the same agent, none of that was true for Tobin and Christen.

The soccer player grew up in Jersey, played at UNC, had a few stints in the ever changing professional league before heading to Paris and ultimately landing in Portland for her long tenure with the Thorns. Christen, a few years Tobin’s junior, grew up outside LA, forgoing traditional schooling to focus on tennis, attending an intensive academy in Florida. She was a prodigy from a young age and was quickly snatched up by the country's greatest trainers and coaches. Her first match on the circuit was at the tender age of 16. Their paths only crossed from a distance at award shows and one fateful night because of a shared sponsorship with Nike.

Christen and Bianca, though they had warmed up on a back court earlier, engage in some light rallying before the match is to start. Tyler and Tobin are now seated, waiting in comfortable silence just watching their girl.

“You’re a big reason she is here, ya know” Tyler breaks the silence.

“Huh?” Is all Tobin can muster at her girlfriend’s sister’s words.

“You. You helped her get to this point.” Tyler has her eyes locked on her younger sister, but her words are meant only for Tobin. “After everything she has been through in the past year and half, hell the past 6 months, no one thought she would ever get back to a major final, but here she is, and the most consistent thing in her life has been you.”

Tobin is quiet for a moment, her heart racing, tears lodging in her throat, “She made this all happen, Ty, not me. I was just along for the ride.”

Tyler sighs and reaches over to take Tobin’s forearm in her hand, “Tobs, I love my sister, she is one of the most inspiring, hardest working, caring, loving, giving, deserving women in the world, and I have seen her pick her nose.” Tobin snorts out a laugh, “It gets worse, she would flick them at me. But, all that to say, that I have seen Christen through it all. She started this crazy trip when she was 16, and it looked like it was going to be over before she turned 26. Then you burst into her life and gave what was a, like, black and white, monotonous, head beating existence, color.”

Tobin doesn’t have words. Tyler is not the person who gets emotional in the Press family, that is mostly reserved for Cody who has given Tobin the “you’re like a fourth daughter to me” talk more than once, so the soccer player is taken aback at the depth and feeling behind the older women’s speech.

“All I try to do is love her the best I can, Tyler.”

Tyler smiles, “Your love is worth more than you know, Tobs.”

She reaches down and takes another sip of her beer, before cupping her hands around mouth to amplify her voice, “Here we go, Christen, it’s time to kick this bay frog’s ass and send her packing!”

“What the hell is a bay frog?”

“Oh, while I was waiting in line for the DISGUSTING bathrooms I looked up nicknames for people in Canada” Tyler shrugs “just wanted a little fodder for the minimal times I am allowed to pester at these matches. I like watching you play way more, I can scream at the other team all night.”

Tobin shakes her head, and settles back down into her seat, as Christen and Bianca have gone back to the benches doing final preparations for the game. What Tyler shared with her was rolling over in mind, over, and over, and over. She never took into consideration what kind of impact she might be having on Christen’s life, because she was so focused on how much value Christen added to hers. In just the few short years they had known each other, Tobin has never been happier, and she knows it has all to do with the tennis player. It was like they started dating the instant they met and never looked back. Their first date happening the morning after they were first introduced. She remembers the night so well….

* Some night in early 2017*

Being a Nike athlete was dope, and 98% of the time Tobin would never argue with that statement. Of all the athletic brands, Nike treated their sponsored athletes right, even their women, which sucks to have to say, but it was true. Since joining the National team, Nike took a true interest in her as a brand ambassador and she always got the sweetest soccer gear, street wear, and endorsement experiences. Her face was on billboards in major cities across the United States, her jersey was on the racks at major sporting outlets, and she got insane perks like court side seats at her favorite professional games, photoshoot opportunities, and massive exposure. It rocked and she knew it. She knew she should be beyond grateful and realize that other athletes, even some of her teammates would KILL to be in her shoes. Her Nike shoes specifically.

But, it was the other 2% of the time when Tobin wishes she never put on that infamous swoosh. And unfortunately tonight presented Tobin to face the reality of that 2%.

“I just don’t understand why I have to go when no one else is going and I also don't understand why I can't bring Lindsey” Tobin whined into her phone exasperatedly.

“Tobin, it’s a Nike event at Nike headquarters and Lindsey is quite obviously an Adidas athlete. You’re the only Portland based athlete available tonight. It’s not like we all chose to be busy or play in different cities. Plus, we only found out from Jill like a week ago that we needed to represent at the event. It’s just bad timing.” Alex responds as evenly as she can, even though this is the 5th time she has explained this to her best friend.

Tobin picks at her nails as she listens and can’t help but roll her eyes at Alex’s logic, “Okay, can you just let me complain about this? You know I hate making small talk, meeting new people, and pretending to find EVERYTHING interesting. These events just aren’t my style.”

“I know, babe, but you just need to get through it. Show face, make sure your photo is taken on the red carpet, stay for the free drinks and what I guarantee will be amazing food, and then get out of there. Plus, you might be surprised who shows up. Nike has some incredible athletes.”

“Yeah, some of whom are MY BEST FRIENDS and aren’t coming.”

“Don’t know what to tell you hun, but with that attitude you’re going to miss a great opportunity and a great party.” Alex sighs, "Tobin, how long has it been since you've just gone out to meet some new people and try new things? What's the worst that could happen?"

Tobin just scoffs in response, not even warranting Alex pandering with a comeback.

“ You have 3 weeks till preseason starts and you will regret not taking advantage of nights out. Plus this is the ULTIMATE free night out. Look, Tobs. I got to go. Serv is only here for a few days and we are heading out to eat with Ash and Ali. You’re gonna be great and it’s going to be painless. Call me tomorrow, so I can hear all about it.”

‘Gosh make me as jealous as possible, why don’t you!” Tobin covers her face with her hand trying not to think about her best friends hanging out together.

“That’s my job - don’t forget to grab me a swag bag.”

Tobin hangs up the phone without even a courteous goodbye. Annoyed at the event, annoyed at her friend, and even more annoyed because she knew Alex was right.

After dramatically laying on her bed for another 10 minutes, she forces herself to get up and moving because her agent would be pissed if she shows up late. Picking out an outfit was Tobin’s literal worst nightmare, and luckily Alex had mesmerized her closet and told her precisely what to wear. Throwing on a black dress with cuffed sleeves, an angled finish right above her knees, she hit the bathroom to figure out some to do with her hair.

30 minutes later, Tobin is out her front door. Hair delicately clipped to one side, black booties on, keys and phone in a black clutch she found under bed. With a deep breath, she waited for an Uber, looking down at her watch, “In and out in two hours. I’ll be back in bed in sweatpants before I know it.”

Little did Tobin know, this event would change her life forever.


	2. Chapter 2

“Tyler! Will you please hurry up?!” she shouts through the door of the hotel bathroom her sister has now been occupying for over 25 minutes, “The car is downstairs waiting and we really can’t be late to this thing! Especially this year…” she finishes with a defeated mumble. An unintelligible response is shouted back and she sighs yet again. Turning to grab her purse off the desk, she catches sight of herself in the mirror.

Looks have never been an issue for her. She isn’t unaware of the fact that her dark skin, light eyes, and thin frame have always been visually pleasing. She has been told from a young age that she was beautiful and the flocking, commenting, and idealizing from fans of all genders and ages would mean she would never forget it. No it wasn’t her looks that made Christen Press pause with uncertainty in the mirror.

Her dress fit her perfectly. The red straps criss-crossing around her neck. Every piece of hair expertly sprayed into place in a tight bun on top of her head. The material hugs her perfectly, showing off all her greatest, well, assets. But, her eyes don’t recognize any of that, instead they zoom in on the four inch long scar on the inside of her right elbow. The scar sticks out against her otherwise perfect skin. A red flag of weakness, of failure, of loss, of imperfection. 

Her left hand almost subconsciously reaches out to run a finger up and down the puckered skin. The tight whiteness against her dark complexion. She shudders at the touch, a pain shooting up her arm. A pain that shouldn’t be there she reminds herself. A phantom pain as her doctor calls it, but to Christen it felt really fucking real.

Four to six months. That is what every doctor, every expert, every other person who underwent this surgery. Four to six months and she could return to full time play without restriction. Probably even faster because she was so young and fit, and it had been a clean tear. Four to six months.

But, here Christen Press was, close to 9 months after surgery, still experiencing random bouts of pain at the slightest touch to her scar and who hadn’t been able to hit a tennis ball since the day of her injury, close to a year ago. Some days she felt amazing, other days she felt horrible, and she couldn’t bring herself to call her coach, to grab her racket, to pull her hopper of balls out of her garage in Manhattan Beach. 

So, instead, she deflected. Had her agent push appearances, told her coach she couldn’t train until she was at 100%, blew off physical therapy, and had absolutely no interest in the sports psychologist her family begged her to see. Christen Press didn’t need help. She could handle this, by herself. She had been doing life by herself since 16 when she shipped off to a private tennis academy in Florida, while her family stayed in Southern California so her parents could mind over her sisters. Christen Press was resolute in being a winner. Resolute to figuring it out. Resolute to showing no one her weaknesses. Resolute to practicing perfection. 

The bathroom door flew open and her older sister, Tyler, came stumbling out, “Alright, Christen lets fucking do this thing. Nike Headquarters get ready for the Press sisters!” She threw her hands up in the air in a mock celebratory dance, trying to make Christen smile.

Tyler was 18 months older than Christen and the two women had always been thick as thieves. Tyler was a soccer player, and though she found incredible success in her own right - going to Dartmouth, heading off to UCLA Law School after, she always lived just outside Christen’s limelight, but did so willingly. Tyler was the one to show up at the smallest circuit tournaments when Christen’s parents were busy with work or with their younger sister, Channing. Tyler was the one Christen called after a bad match, a good match, or any standard day. And because of her unyielding support, Christen let Tyler tag along to all her major promotional events. The older sister was a major sports fan and she had been talking about tonight for months.

“So” she began chattering away as the sisters made their way downstairs to the lobby of the hotel, “Who do you think will be there? I mean we are in Portland so definitely Damien Lilliard right? Maybe some of the guys from The Timbers team? I mean we are on the west coast so would it be WILD if Lebron was there?” Christen hummed in when it was appropriate, and showed general attentiveness at others, however her mind was anywhere else than one what other athletes would be at the event.

No, instead her mind was on impressing the Nike tennis executives. They took a chance on Christen at a young age because of all the hype she received Junior USTA, and her solid performances as a youngster on the senior circuit. However, in the past three years she has done just okay. Never winning any major tournaments, but never doing poorly enough for fans to lose interest. But, with not playing in over a year, she knew she was on thin ice. 

“HELLO, earth to Christen!” Tyler’s voice cut abruptly through Christen’s mind warp “Are you even listening to me?”

Christen shook her head, “Sorry, Ty. Got lost in my thoughts. What were you saying?”

Tyler glanced at her sister knowingly and reached across the backseat of their car to squeeze her knee, “What’s up, Chris?”

Christen shrugged. “I don’t know, like, I usually enjoy going to these events, but with everything going on, I just, well, I need it to go well, while also totally not wanting to be there.” Yet again her left hand reaches out for her right elbow. Tyler quick grabs the anxious hand and squeezes it in hers.

“Babe, take a deep breath. We will be in and out if you want. You will be your ever charming self, look gorgeous for the cameras, blind the executives with your smile, and no one will forget Christen Press after tonight. I’ll make sure of it.”

The younger woman can’t help but smile, “We want them to remember me for GOOD reasons, not because I brought my crazy sister who is obsessed with all Nike athletes.”

“I am sure both won’t be a big deal.”  
***  
Tobin definitely wasn’t hiding. People in the room could definitely see her, if they really looked. No, no, she wasn’t hiding, but she certainly wasn’t displaying herself in the room. Deciding instead to hang back at a table near the hallway to the restrooms, with her back turned towards the masses. She had already been in for 30 minutes, got into two awkward conversations with other professional athletes, and hadn’t seen one other Portland professional. 

Desperately looking at her watch, urging the minutes to go by faster. She promised her agent she would stay for one hour, do the red carpet, talk to one soccer executive and then she could leave. Well, she managed to get two of her three tasks done. 

The red carpet was fine. At these events, photographers were always from the sports world so they didn’t make the athlete pose for too long. Nike always had some interns throwing out sports equipment to the athletes, so after Tobin did a few juggles in her dress, she was able to disappear inside. It wasn’t long before she ran into Jack, Portland’s soccer guy for the company, they chatted briefly and made plans for her to come in and prototype a new cleat, and then here she was by the back bathroom. Staring at her watch.

“Gosh, you would think with all this fricken Nike money there would be better food at this damn thing.”

Tobin’s attention is immediately grabbed by a woman will long dark curly hair and bright green eyes who had just stumbled up to her table with a small cocktail plate in hand. 

“Oh, um, yeah” Tobin mumbles quietly “the food always leaves something to be desired.”

They two women stand there a bit awkwardly, Tobin trying to avoid eye contact, but that doesn’t last long. The other woman takes a long sip of her drink and Tobin catches her eye and the green eyes immediately widen, “Holy shit” she gasps putting her drink down, “You’re Tobin Fucking Heath.”

An awkward cough escapes Tobin’s mouth, “Actually my middle name is Powell.”

This makes the other woman laugh hysterically, “Holy shit, I am SUCH A HUGE FAN. Whenever the national team plays in LA I am always there!”

The soccer play nervously runs her hand over her neck. She usually is okay at these things, but for the life of her does not recognize this woman and feels awful because she is likely another Nike athlete, “Oh um wow. Thank you so much. Always nice to meet a fellow athlete who follows women’s soccer.”

The women again laugh hysterically, “Oh no no. I am no athlete, I am a lawyer. I am actually here with my sister…” she trails off and glances around, “OOH. There she is.”

Tobin glances in the direction of the woman’s outstretched arm and her throat goes dry. A very frantic Christen Press is making her way over to the small tucked away table. “Fuck” Tobin says quietly.

“What did you say” the sister jumps in. Tobin suddenly realizes she doesn’t even know that woman’s name.

“Um” but before anything could come out, Christen had arrived.

“Jesus, I did not think I would ever break loose of Marcie. She was literally talking to me for like 40 minutes about grips. Grips!” Christen reaches over and grabs her sisters drink, slinging it back like a champ. Tobin stands there with her mouth agape. “Tyler, you have 15 minutes to fangirl over whatever athletes you want and then we are out here.”

Tobin cannot rip her eyes off of Christen. She actually forgot that Christen was a Nike athlete and never thought in a million years she would be an event in Portland. Tobin had been following Christen’s career for the past few years. She had always been a big tennis fan, and it was hard not to like Christen’s game and her on camera personality. Plus, she was really hot.

“Well, Chris, speaking of me fangirling, this is Tobin Heath.”

Christen finally looked up and noticed Tobin at the table and her cheeks immediately reddened, “Oh my god, I am so sorry. You must think I am so rude and ungrateful to be here. It’s just a little overwhelming.” Her hands wave frantically by her face. “I am Christen. Christen Press.” Tobin grabs the hand extended in front of her and immediately feels a tingling sensation up her arm.

“Um, I am Tobin, Tobin Heath.”

“Thorns and the national team” Christen says quickly, “You’re so fun to watch.”

Now it is Tobin’s turn to blush, “Oh, um, thanks. I love watching you play, too. I was actually at Wimbledon a few years back when you beat Venus in the second round. We were playing a friendly against Scotland and a few of us traveled down. You were amazing.” Her eyes were locked on Christen’s green ones.

They were a different shade than her older sister’s, not quite as bright, but possibly even prettier. They were backed by a greyness that would change with the light.

“Um, are you two going to stop holding hands?” 

Tobin immediately released Christen’s hand at Tyler’s question, and now both of them were blushing.

“OOOOOOOHHHHHkay. Well I am going to go mingle for a little longer and try to find that waiter with the shrimp while you two do whatever this is” Tyler gestures between the two women and quickly scoots away.

Tobin can’t help but laugh as Christen rolls her eyes, “Sorry about her. She can be a bit much sometimes.”

“No way! She’s great” Tobin replies “I wish I had someone fun to bring to things like these, instead of hiding by myself in the corner.”

Her stomach immediately tightens at her words, trying to look cool in front of Christen.

“I am surprised a few of your teammates aren’t here with you.”

“Yeah, same…” Tobin mumbles “It was kind of thrown on us last minute we had to be here, and I am one of the only national team Nike players in Portland, so um, I guess I drew the short straw.”

Christen hums appreciatively. “Well, lucky for you it’s close to home.” She smiles widely at Tobin, who literally feels like she has been knocked off her feet.

“Oh, ah, yeah. Easy trip.” Christen nods again and looks around seemingly for her sister. Crap, crap, crap Tobin thinks. She is standing here and boring Christen Press. 

“So um what about you? Long trip? I thought you were based on the East Coast?”

Christen’s eyes snap back to Tobin and it’s like time slows down as the women look at each other and both smile shyly. “I have been living in LA for a while. I was based in Florida, but decided to move back home about a year ago.” Tobin notices green eyes flicker down to Christen’s arm. As Tobin’s eyes follow, the tennis player immediately cross her arms in front of her, snapping Tobin back to attention.

“Sweet! I love LA. We train a lot in Carson City. I actually have a little apartment right near Manhattan Beach.”

“Seriously?” Christen asks skeptically, “That’s where I live...”

“No way! Oh yeah, I got a place there a few years back. I love to surf and a couple of my friends live down there in the off season, so it kind of made sense.” Tobin shrugs as the two women fall into easy conversation about like in Manhattan Beach and everything Los Angeles.

Before either of realizes they are standing shoulder to shoulder, turned into each other as if no one else is in the room, “Oh my god” Christen all but snorts, “I can’t believe you like Rock n Fish. That place looks like a glorified Ruby Tuesdays! I am totally judging you right now.”

“Come on” Tobin retorts “You can’t tell me you’re not a sucker for a Navy Grog and a crab cake. It’s the perfect combination!”

A beautiful peel of laughter escapes from Christen’s mouth and Tobin knows she’s a goner. The younger woman is a total knockout and the more they talk, Tobin can also see how thoughtful, compassionate, and interesting the tennis player is. “Well, Heath, I gotta say I am not a rum girl. Had a bad incident at tennis academy with a bottle of Calico Jack, and I can’t say I have a taste for it anymore.”

“Sounds like me and vodka” Tobin replies cheekily. “Never let Allie Long convince you that Rubinoff is just as good as Kettle One if you blend it first.”

“I don’t think I will ever meet Allie Long, but if I do, I will be sure to avoid drinking vodka with her.”

“You never know about Allie, she is one of my best friends, so I could make it happen.”

Christen delicately brings her hand to rest under her chin, “Oh, so you think we will be seeing each other again?”

Tobin exhales sharply, “Um, if I play my cards right, I hope so.”

Christen leans closer to Tobin and just as she is about to reply, Tyler returns to the table. “Okay, I have officially exhausted all food avenues here. You ready to go, Chris?”

Christen sadly looks up at Tobin before turning to her sister, “Um, yeah sure Ty, we can head out.”

“Good, I fucking can’t wait to take these heels off.” Tyler makes her way towards the exit and Tobin can’t help but feeling disappointed that Christen is leaving.

“Where are you staying?” She asks the tennis player quickly.

“The Pearl District.”

“That is actually right near where I live...mind if I grab a ride with y'all?” Tobin asks hopefully not wanting to leave the younger woman just yet.

A small smile breaks on Christen’s face, “That sounds great, as long as you don't stick me with the fare.”

Tobin smiles in return and follows the Press sisters out towards the main entrance. Both athletes wave quickly to some familiar faces on the way out, but try to make a fast exit. They hit the street and both take a huge deep breath at the same time.

They can’t help but look at each other and burst out in laughter.

“Gosh, those events really suck” Christen says through her laughter.

“This one wasn’t so bad” Tobin replies with a smile, and quickly grabs Christen’s hand to lead her over to her sister and the waiting cab.  
***  
The cab ride flies by as the three women continue conversation the entire trip. Tobin relishes seeing Christen in a comfortable environment with her sister. On TV and in interviews, Christen has always come off as rather reserved and focused, but seeing her laughing with her sister, telling stories about other events they’ve been to together, and other what they have dubbed “Irish Exits”, Tobin sees a much more light hearted version of the tennis player.

The cab pulls up to the hotel and Tyler quickly says goodbye to Tobin, who in return promises tickets to their next national team game in LA. This leaves Christen and Tobin standing in front of the hotel alone. 

“So, I actually ended up having a really nice time tonight” Christen says quietly.

“Yeah, I did, too” Tobin replies honestly, “I have never been so happy to listen to Alex Morgan.”

Christen blushes as she takes a step closer to the soccer player and lightly links their fingers, “Well, Tobin Heath, it was really wonderful to meet you. Let me know next time you’re in Manhattan Beach and maybe I can take you to a real restaurant.” She leans in closely and plants a soft kiss on Tobin’s cheek, which she knows reddened under the contact, like it was lit on fire.

Tobin feels Christen slowly start to back away, their hands still loosely laced. As if her body was acting on its own accord, Tobin pulled Christen closely into her and with a moment’s eye contact for consent, planted a searing kiss on the young woman’s lips. She feels arms wrap around her neck, as her lips dance against Christen’s own. It wasn’t until she felt Christen’s tongue ask for entrance into her own mouth that it dawned on her she was kissing flipping Christen Press. The kiss inevitably slowed and they pulled away.

“Wow…”  
“Sorry…”

The women say at the same time and they both laugh and then share a knowing grin.

“What time is your flight back to LA tomorrow?”

“Um, late afternoon. Why?”

Tobin pulls Christen tighter to her again, placing her hands on her hips, “Well, I don’t know about you, but I am absolutely starving and know a great taco truck right down the street, and I have a pretty nice selection of wine at my apartment. You know, if maybe you didn’t want this night to end just yet.”

Two hours later, the two athletes were sitting on Tobin’s couch, a bottle of wine open, and empty taco boxes scattered on the coffee table. Christen had quickly changed out of dress at the hotel and was sporting yoga pants and an old Dartmouth t-shirt Tyler had gotten her. Tobin was mesmerized how the woman still looked as beautiful in athletic gear as she did in a cocktail dress. Conversation had been non stop. Sharing stories from the road and finding they had more in common than just sports.

“I truly don’t believe that they used to house you with 3 roommates in a two bedroom apartment!”

“I’m serious! Allie and I literally had bunk beds. As full grown adults. Though to be fair, we didn't really act like adults” Tobin replies having just told Christen about the escapades she used to get into with her former Thorn teammates. "When the league first started compensation was really rough. I was lucky I had the national team salary, but some of my teammates had multiple other jobs, even in season.”

Christen shook her head in disbelief “That’s wild. You’re professional athletes. You should be able to focus on just that. And, also bunk beds? What did you do if you wanted to bring someone home?”

Tobin's face immediately reddened "Um, we had a system, but that’s what we are focusing on now with the law suit and all the stuff with the federation. Equal pay and all that. Even after the world cup in 2015 they didn’t want to pay us. It is crazy.”

“I guess I never realized how lucky I am that tennis compensates males and females equally. It is really incredible what you and your teammates are doing. You’re paving the way for women’s professionals everywhere.” Christen takes Tobin’s hand in her own and gives it a squeeze. 

Tobin shrugs again, “Thanks, it was kind of hard for me to commit myself to all of it. I just don’t like the attention, but realize it was important for the future of the game and that is what matters. It’s really not about me.”

Christen nods, “Is there any hope for better compensation for the professional league here.”

“Tough to say. We are getting some more buzz and hopefully if we are able to win the World Cup in 2019, we will be able to keep the momentum rolling. Honestly, a lot of us consider going to Europe cause the money is so much better.”

Christen sits up and moves closer to her so their thighs are touching. The two women make eye contact and Christen reaches out to push some of Tobin’s hair behind her ear, “Well, Europe won’t do at all.”

She hums in response, loving the feeling of Christen’s hand playing with her hair, “Why not?” Tobin all but whispers in response.

“Portland is long distance enough.” And with that Christen leans in to kiss Tobin. Pushing the older woman onto her back on the couch.

The kissing is eager and hungry, hands fly to find solace on each other's bodies. Tobin’s landing right on Christen’s hips and Christen burying hers deeper in Tobin’s hair. They make out like teenagers, tongues and mouths everywhere. But it is when Tobin finds Christen’s pulse point with her mouth, and a down right dirty moan leaves Christen’s mouth that the two break away. 

Panting. Eyes dark. Mouths bruised.

“Should we slow down?” Tobin asks, but her hands are still wandering under the tennis player's shirt. Rubbing tantalizing circles on her soft skin. Her heart is still racing from their contact.

“I don’t think I want to” Christen says. “I don’t usually do this whole thing, but there is just something about you Tobin Heath.” The young woman leans in and captures her in another kiss. “I just want you and I don’t care if it is even for just one night.”

That’s all the confirmation that Tobin needs.

The next morning, the two women share pleasantries, and nothing is awkward at all. Tobin walks Christen back to her hotel and kisses her sweetly wishing her a safe flight back to LA. They had exchanged numbers and promised to keep in touch, though neither of them felt the other would. They both kind of chalked it up to a whirlwind romance at a Nike event and both felt okay about it. Or at least Tobin thought she did.

She spent the next 3 days with her mind consumed with nothing but Christen Press. Her smile, her laugh, her eyes, her smile, her humor, her intelligence. Tobin Heath was not one to get attached, ever, let alone after one night, but she knew deep in her soul there was something different about Christen. So she did something she rarely ever does, she makes a plan.  
***  
Christen has been back from Portland for almost a full week, and finds herself in a better mood than she has been for the past 9 months. She wasn’t sure what changed, though she had a guess it was to do with a certain soccer player. 

The night she spent with Tobin was pretty incredible. Let alone the physical connection the two had, which Christen can honestly say she had never felt with anyone, they also so clearly shared an emotional connection. She was so inspired by the way Tobin led her life - with a determination but free spirited nature that allowed her to be wickedly competitively, incredibly successful, but also grateful for all around her. Never had Christen felt so much like herself with another human being who wasn't in her family. Tobin woke something up within her. 

She had picked her phone up what must have been 100 times to text Tobin, but something inside her, a voice in the back of head, told her not to be stupid. That someone like Tobin Heath wasn’t looking for a long distance relationship with a mess like her. So she let it be. She forced herself to think of other stuff. 

She decided to relent to Tyler’s begging and was on her way out the door to meet her older sister at Manhattan Beach Post for dinner. At least she had chosen Christen’s favorite restaurant.

In typical Christen fashion she arrived 15 minutes early and found herself waiting for her sister at their table. The waiter brought her over a Cosmo to sip on while she waited and perused the specials.

“I totally had you pegged as a martini girl, Press, guess I still have a lot to learn about you” a soft voice came from behind her shoulder.

She whipped around to see Tobin Heath, standing next to her table. Ripped blue jeans, a dark blue t shirt and leather jacket, high top Nike’s, hair down, honey eyes bright, with a small smile on her face.

“Tobin” she breathed and stood up pulling the older woman into a tight hug “What are you doing here?” She asks as she steps away and takes the soccer player in.

“ I decided one night wasn’t enough for me” Tobin shrugs and sits down across from Christen. “So” she picks up the menu, “what’s good here?”


	3. Chapter 3

Ever since she was a little girl, people always remarked on how big Tobin’s heart was. She was always the kid on the playground that wanted to include everyone, from the quiet kid on the swing, to the bully behind the dumpster. Tobin always felt like everyone should be involved, everyone should have fun, and everyone should be friends. This proved beneficial to Tobin as she grew up with many friends, being well liked across different social circles, and also being lauded by adults for her character and kindness.

Tobin’s heart had a lot of love to give. So through her life of soccer - all the travel, new teams, new cities, she had amassed a lot of friends that she held near and dear. She found a lot of people to love and who love her back. This bled into her constantly being on the move. From city to city, couch to couch, guestroom to guestroom, spending time with all those she cared about whenever she could. There was one off season where she went from Seattle to Florida to Jersey to Georgia to Los Angeles to New York City, finally landing back in Portland all within the span of 4 weeks. 

She always joked she was a homebody with no home, bouncing around from different family to family. Spreading love and joy.

All this to say that Tobin Heath was no stranger to love. In love, however, was a different question. In her 28 plus years she has had a handful of relationships. But only two that really ever flirted with the line of being in love. 

There was Matt, a man she dated at the end of college. Looking back on the relationship, Tobin knew what she felt for Matt wasn’t love, because well, she could never be in love with a man. But, at the time, when she wasn’t ready to be her truest self, Matt provided a level of comfort, safety, and fun. It was almost like he knew about Tobin before Tobin did. He was happy to give her whatever she wanted for close to 11 months before she called it off due to the stresses of soccer and figuring out her professional career. 

Then there was Shirley. The first relationship Tobin had with a woman. The first time she really let herself be herself. She was in Paris, she was living a life outside the spotlight. No one really knew her there, and she could just be. 

So, she let herself just be.

Shirley was talented, smart, attractive, and really into Tobin, which never hurt. They had fun. They kissed in front of the Eiffel Tower, got wine drunk alone in Shirley’s apartment, explored European cities together. It was fun.

Then Tobin went home, because eventually she just had to, and without all the excitement of being abroad, the relationship just fizzled. Perhaps she was in lust with Shirley and in love with being herself.

She didn’t know a ton about being in love. What she did know is that whatever she had with Christen Press was more special, more real, and more powerful than most other things in her life.

After the Nike event, she spent as much time in LA as possible. Season was right around the corner so she took advantage of a full two weeks in the California sun. Most of that time was spent by Christen’s side. Walks on the beach, dinner at the tennis player’s favorite restaurants, long talks about childhood, favorite movies, life on the road, and longer nights wrapped up in their own little world while simultaneously being wrapped up in sheets. 

Tobin spent almost every night at Christen’s apartment, mostly because they never wanted to leave each other’s side. The two weeks had been a master class in foundation building in their relationship. They laid it all out there - likes, dislikes, pet peeves, dating history, family history, apprehensions about long distance - they covered all their bases and were ready to jump in. Neither of the women could deny that any outsider would think they were crazy, but neither of them could deny the magnetic pull they had towards one another.

It was Tobin’s last night in LA, she was dreading having to fly back to Portland early the next morning, so she could be back in town for their annual team dinner at Sinc’s house to kick off the new season which started the following day. 

She was laying on Christen’s couch, with the younger girl resting on top of her. Tobin’s hand ran through dark curls, the two of them enjoying the closeness and the quiet knowing that it might be some time before they had it again. Christen shifted a few times, sinking deeper and deeper into Tobin’s chest, and soon began drumming her finger tips against the side of the couch.

“Chris?” Tobin hummed quietly. “What’s up?”

Christen popped her head up and rested her chin against the older woman’s stomach so they locked eyes.

“...nothing” Christen said quietly, her voice trailing off as she cast her eyes away from Tobin.

Tobin sat up a bit, pulling the younger girl more firmly into her lap, “Hey, come on” she gently grabbed Christen’s chin between her thumb and forefinger, “Talk to me.”

Christen’s mouth twitched as if she was chewing on words and then finally took a deep breath, “I am just going to miss you. These last two weeks have been more than I could have ever imagined and then tomorrow you get on a plane back to Portland and we need to figure out how to do this all over again. Whatever this is…”

Tobin frowned, “What do you mean whatever this is?”

Long fingers ran through curly hair as Christen gathered herself, “I mean whatever we are. Distance is only going to make it harder and I know we’ve talked about it over and over. I know that I want to do it, but I also know that times are going to suck and it’s going to be hard, and you’re going to be in Portland and have all these women who are obsessed with you and you’ll be just like in the midst of that and I’ll just be here and…” before Christen can go any further into her rabbit hole, Tobin cuts her off with a searing kiss.

“Hey, hey, hey” she says as she pulls away from Christen with a pop, “Listen it is okay to be worried about the distance, but I can assure you, I can promise you, from the very very very bottom of my heart” she pulls Christen’s hand in against her chest “that nothing and no one in Portland is you and I only want you.”

Christen just shakes her head, “It’s been two weeks, Tobin. How can you be so sure?”

If this had been anyone else, Tobin would have been upset by their inability to trust her, but she knows about Christen’s romantic past and knows that trust is her biggest issue in relationships. 

So she takes a deep breath, “Chris, I am 28 years old. I have been living on my own basically since I was 18, and I have been in Portland since I was 24. Do you know how many times I have taken a random woman home with me from the bar?”

“I don’t think I want to know” Christen says cooly as she attempts to separate herself a bit, but Tobin’s arms hold her tighter.

“None.”

Christen squints, “Yeah right. I mean look at you. There is no way you have never had a one night stand.”

Tobin smiles. “Cross my heart.”

“How is that even possible? I have had one night stands and you have so much more game than I do.”

Now it’s Tobin’s turn to squint. “Well we can talk about those one night stands later, but for me I really want to get to know someone, I want it to feel right because I have been in some relationships that just don’t feel right. But, Christen, you, being with you, spending time with you, getting to know you, feels right. It feels like all the world around me just slowly clicks into place and I feel calm, I feel settled. You make me feel right. That’s how I know that you have nothing to worry about.”

Christen leans in and captures Tobin’s lips in a soft kiss before holding herself against the women, eyes closed, forehead to forehead “Be with me?” She whispers quietly after a minute.

“I am” Tobin whispers back.

“Officially” Christen’s eyes open and are met with Tobin’s adoring ones, “Be my girlfriend, Tobin.”

“I am” she whispers back again. Green eyes brighten, a smile tugs at the corner of Christen’s lips and Tobin pulls the girl in even closer.

Since that night, the two women have been firing on all proverbial cylinders. Daily texts and FaceTimes make the distance feel a little better. Both of their frequent flyer miles make weekend excursions more possible and more financially responsible.

It has been 3 months since they first met, and Tobin finally has an extended break in her Thorns/USWNT duties and then she has a stretch of home games for the Thorns, so Christen was coming up with no expiration date. Once Tobin’s schedule picked back up, the tennis player would make her way back to LA, but they saw an opportunity to spend some uninterrupted time together, so Christen booked an open ticket.

This will be the most time they have spent together to date, seeing as even when Tobin was in Los Angeles, she would spend time with some of her national team friends, training or surfing, and Christen had to balance her own schedule of training and appointments. Tobin was definitely anxious for her girlfriend to arrive and to impress the younger woman. Plus, she was massively head over heels in love with Christen and she had been eagerly waiting for this trip to tell her. 

She wasn’t sure why she felt like she had to prepare. There had been countless times on Facetime or other weekend trips where the words could have flown out, but she knew how big of a deal this was for both of them. Christen’s last relationship ended up in a relatively publicized cheating scandal, publicized in the tennis world at least, and Tobin was trying to be thoughtful. Christen was giving her heart to Tobin and Tobin was treating it like the most precious gift in the whole world. 

Tobin wanted the it all to be perfect. She made reservations, planned day trips, almost paid Allie 500 dollars to not embarrass her. All she wanted was for Christen to have the absolute best time in Portland, and maybe even want to spend more time there throughout the year. Nike was in the process of building out their tennis facility and though trying not to get ahead of herself, Tobin was hoping to make Christen a somewhat permanent fixture of the city.

She knew she was acting crazy. Christen had been to Portland a handful of times, met her friends, stayed at the apartment, seen her play, the works. This trip just seemed like the first big test of their time together. It was easy to have fun when you knew the time was limited and you had so much to talk about from being apart. So she was feeling pressure to prove to herself, and those around her, that she and Christen were the real deal. Not just some fleeting romance. 

Well, maybe she was trying to prove it all to Christen. Show Christen it was okay to let go. Okay to give in. Okay to let Tobin love her.

Tobin was confident that Christen really liked her, maybe even loved her, but she could sense that the younger woman’s guard was drawn, especially over the last few weeks building up to this time together. She could sense that Christen was unsure - maybe not of her, but of something. Tobin wanted to show her there was nothing to be unsure of. It was okay to dive in.

No pressure, she reminded herself. 

Here she stood at the PDX airport waiting for Christen and her luggage. The tennis player made Tobin promise to not make a spectacle since there was nothing she hated more than unnecessary public attention. Who she was and what she did got her enough of that. Tobin joked that her lifelong dream was to pull a little kid in Love Actually and chase a girl through the airport. Christen shot it down immediately.

Tobin listened, and while there was no big display, she did have a 3 by 5 index card that read “CP <3” in miniscule lettering, and as soon as she saw Christen coming down the escalators, she pulled the card out of her pocket and held it at chest height, right by her heart, blank side facing out. 

She waited for her girlfriend to notice her presence, but she was currently looking around trying to find the right carousel. Green eyes scanning the rather uncrowded airport, it wasn’t until she was off the escalators that she locked eyes with Tobin, who quickly flipped the index card over so her blocky lettering faced out.

A grin ripped across Christen’s face as she picked up her pace.

“Told you I wouldn’t embarrass you” Tobin said through a grin as she pulled Christen in for a quick hug. She was dying to kiss the woman, but knew airports were notorious places for overexcited fans.

Christen chuckled lightly in her ear “I’ve only been with you for 15 seconds, I am sure there will be many more opportunities for you to embarass me over the next few weeks.” It felt like 100 caterpillars became butterflies in Tobin’s stomach. A few weeks. Christen was staying with her for a few weeks. Slyly, Christen grabbed the notecard and put it in her purse, giving the CP<3 one last look before stowing it away.

The women casually chatted as they waited for Christen’s bags to make their way around the carousel. Tobin smiled as the sleek matching AWAY set with monogrammed initials made its way around the corner. She reached out and grabbed them before Christen had a chance with a quick “M’lady”, snapping the handles into place and pushing them towards the oversized luggage pick up zone.

“Where ya going, Tobs?”

Tobin turned quickly to see Christen had moved towards the exits and smiled curiously. “I was going to go wait for your tennis bag. I figured you would have brought your rackets up to train. There are a ton of courts right now my house.”

“Oh no, I’m all set. We can head right to the car.” Before Tobin could even register what was happening, Christen was making her way swiftly out of the airport.

Tobin shrugged, assuming Christen must have rackets waiting for her at Nike or something and then noticed her girlfriend had disappeared.

“Wait for me!” The soccer play called after her girlfriend and followed as quickly as she could in her flip flops. Tobin beelined for the automatic doors Christen had just escaped through and quickly looked both ways for the woman who was currently walking in the wrong direction. “Hey, Marco Polo, car is this way” Tobin said with a nod of head towards the parking garage.

Christen, as deftly as possible, navigated her two bags and walked back towards Tobin, who grabbed the handle of the larger suitcase to make their way towards the car.

“Any reason you are all but sprinting out of here? Do you need to use the restroom? I don’t blame you for not wanting to go inside the airport.”

“Oh shush” Christen says with a smile, “Just lead me to the car - quickly.”

With a quizzical look. Tobin led the way as fast as possible, though it didn’t seem fast enough for Christen. As the rolled up to the navy blue Jeep. Christen gave a quick scan of the area, and shoved Tobin against the side of the car and captured her lips in a passionate kiss. Tobin eagerly reciprocated, letting go of the suitcase and running her hands up and down Christen’s sides as they exchanged open mouthed kisses. Soft hands landed on her cheeks, as Christen held her face tenderly before slowly pulling away.

“Holy shit” she breathed, “I missed you so much.”

Tobin can’t help but smirk, “Well if that’s how you respond to missing me we should spend more time apart.”

Christen frowns.

“Totally kidding, babe.” Tobin grabs Christen’s soft hand and kisses her knuckles, “I am so excited you’re here. Let’s roll.” She reaches behind her to open the passenger side door and helps Christen up into the lifted vehicle, before popping the trunk to get the luggage settled and hopping into the driver’s seat. After buckling her seat belt, she reached across the console to hold Christen’s hand.

Everything felt right.  
***

The first time Christen spent the night at Tobin’s apartment she wasn’t sure what she expected. They had just met and Christen was more concerned with not embarrassing herself, then really taking in her surroundings. The more time she spent at the apartment, the more it screamed Tobin. It was industrial, yet homey, with concrete floors and exposed pipes, but soft fabrics adorned the floors and walls. She transformed the office into a gym and the guest bedroom into a makeshift studio. All of her favorite things were in arms reach and all of it looked out onto Mt. Hood. 

Every night spent in the apartment led Christen to feeling more and more like she belonged there.

“Okay, so I know you know where everything is obviously” her girlfriend starts talking a mile a minute when they first get back from the airport. “But, I made a few adjustments so you feel more comfortable here for the near future.” Tobin immediately dropped Christen’s bags off in her bathroom, before taking her hand and leading her towards the guest room.

The table in front of the window that typically was littered with all of Tobin’s artwork, was now cleaned off, set up with a succulent, a new bright lamp, a laptop stand, and a picture frame.

“I know there are days you will probably have to work and I figured this was better than you having to sit on the couch or at the kitchen counter.” 

Christen walks over to the desk and notices the photo Tobin had framed. It was one of the two of them Tyler had taken during Tobin’s first visit to LA. They were sitting on these giant stone steps facing the beach and the sunset, but neither of them were looking at the sunset, instead they were looking at each other. 

“Tobs, you didn’t have to do this. This is your house. This is your studio. You didn’t have to change all this for me.” Her hand strokes the picture frame and a small smile graces her face.

Her girlfriend gets a little awkward “Yeah, well, um, I want you to feel at home here, too. Plus, I was able to store some of my art stuff at Lindsey’s apartment downstairs in her spare room. I have been thinking about renting a room downstairs as a studio anyways, so really this was the push I needed” she rambles on. Christen puts her out of her misery by planting a soft kiss on her cheek.

“Well this was very thoughtful of you, bear.” She runs a finger down the old woman’s nose before kissing her again. 

Tobin blushes at the nickname that Christen only used when they were alone. The tennis player found Tobin to be so protective like a mama bear, but also so cuddly like a teddy bear, so it kind of worked.

“Okay, on to the next room.” Christen shakes her head as she follows her girlfriend through the rest of the apartment. 

She follows Tobin into the small gym room, which was mostly reserved for free weights and a squat rack. But, Tobin had somehow reorganized the whole room to make the space more efficient. An exercise bike was in the near corner, looking out to the city skyline. A true stretch was added to the back of the room, and a large full length mirror was added to the far wall with a yoga mat in front.

“So, um, I know you love to meditate and you have mentioned yoga before, so I got this mat and a few blocks and straps that are in the closet. Then there is the bike for some cardio and um” her soft eyes look around the rest of the room, “Oh yeah!” Her voice brightens as she goes over the to true stretch “I wasn’t really sure what you needed to do for your physical therapy, so I talked to the Thorns trainer about UCL strengthening and he suggested I get a bunch of these physio bands, so there are a ton of options here.” She gestured to the box next to the stretching station.

Christen’s throat tightens and her hand immediately shoots up to the inside of her arm. “Tobin you shouldn’t have...you didn’t need to...I mean, I don’t intend on…” words were totally escaping her at this moment. She knew she needed to tell Tobin the truth, especially now. No one had ever gone to so many lengths to support her, but she couldn’t even bring herself to be honest. 

She knew this was going to happen and chastises herself for letting it get this far. Tobin doesn’t need to be exposed to her brokenness. This carefree, free spirited, full of love woman in front of her didn’t need to deal with her shit. She doesn’t deserve to feel this good when she can’t even get her life together.

“If we need to get other stuff, we can” Tobin quickly blurts out, “Sorry I totally should have asked what you needed, but I just wanted to surprise you. I am just so happy you’re here and want this to be the best time ever.”

The words quickly pull Christen out of her internal monologue. She shakes head and walks to Tobin to pull her in for a soft kiss and just holds her in the middle of the gym, “Thank you, Tobin.” It’s not enough, but it will do. For now, she will just let her girlfriend hold her. Unbeknownst to the soccer player, she is holding her together in more ways than one.


	4. Chapter 4

Sun streamed into the room, onto her face which was exposed to the windows. Squinting the light out, her green eyes fluttered open as she took in the space around her. Fluffy white down comforter with a colorful, woven border was wrapped around her waist. Feet exposed at the bottom, tangled in Tobin’s. Hair wild, curly, draped over her pillow. She must have never taken her scrunchie back that Tobin had borrowed in the throws of last night. 

She feels Tobin pressed into her back. Soft, warm puffs of slow breath hitting her exposed shoulder, a hand on the jut of her hip. Before rolling over and waking up the woman, she breathes deeply. She can’t help but smile at her life. Being in Portland over the past week and a half has made her feel lighter. Like the vice like grip her life had around her midsection, around her heart, suffocating her insides, wringing her body like an old dish rag was slowly letting go, letting her breathe, letting her be. Letting her live. Instead of dampening her spirits, quashing her spirit, toxifying her mind. 

How long would this feeling last?

It had been replaced by Tobin’s soft tender hold, a hold of safety, of warm laundry, a fall breeze, of the sun setting over the ocean. A hot coffee on a winter morning.. A hold of happiness. A hold that Christen never wanted to lose. Come hell or highwater, Christen knew that the woman next to her was something she had to fight for. She had to open the watergates, flood her, and save her.

Delicate kisses on her shoulder blades pull her into the present moment.

“Hmmm” Christen hums as she slowly rolls over into Tobin’s embrace, “Good morning, bear.” They are face to face, foreheads touching; she delicately rubs her nose against Tobin’s before leaning in for a small kiss. Her girlfriend’s honey eyes slowly slide open.

“G’morning” she husks sleepily, “I could feel you thinking over there.”

“Feel me thinking?”

“Okay, well whenever you think you tap your fingers, so I guess I felt that,” Tobin says with a smile.

Christen runs her hands down Tobin’s bare arms, leaning into the moment of stillness, “You’re just getting to know everything about me, aren’t you?”

Tobin locks her eyes on hers and in a rather serious tone says, “That’s the plan.”

Another heart stopping statement from Tobin and the voice in the back of Christen’s mind is screaming at her to run. That voice that she hasn’t been able to shut off since she was 16 years old, but the tennis player does her best to focus on what her heart is telling her. The soccer player stretches her hands above her head, forcing the sheeting to fall down her midsection, exposing a bare chest that sends Christen spinning. She slowly leans in capturing a nipple in her mouth.

“Fuck” Tobin breaths out as Christen rolls her onto her back and slides her leg over the woman so that she hovers over her midsection. “You’re trying to distract me...fuck okay...Don’t you want to brush our teeth first?”

Christen laughs against Tobin’s chest, “I have a feeling we are going to get plenty dirty and can take care of that later” she slowly kisses her way down Tobin’s chest, abs, placing soft open mouth kisses on her thighs, pushing gently against them with her nose so that Tobin got the hint to spread her legs a little wider, as she went to work.

After Tobin returned the favor, a few times, the women were laid out in bed, Tobin running her hands through Christen’s hair, “What a wonderful way to wake up.”

“I figured it would start the day on a high note and set you up for a good day” Christen replies with a smirk.

“Lucky for me, every day with you is a good day” Tobin lays a delicate kiss on her hairline, before rolling over, “Okay, dear, let's get moving so I can make you a hearty breakfast before I head off to training.” Tobin leans over to give Christen a kiss on the temple and she can’t help but sigh thinking of her girlfriend leaving her for a few hours. They had a week of uninterrupted time together, but the Thorns were gearing up for a three game home stint, and had just started training this week. 

Christen watches as Tobin slides out of the sheets and pulls on the pajamas she had discarded the night before. A tremor runs up her right arm and she winces in pain. 

“Fucking stop” she chastises herself and grits her teeth at the pain. 

“What was that, babe” Tobin pokes her head back in the room with a bright smile on her face that makes Christen melt.

“Nothing, Tobs, I am right behind you.”

Taking a deep breath she lifts herself out of bed, grabs her own discarded clothes, which were actually Tobin’s and follows her girlfriend’s path to the kitchen.  
***  
Tobin was buzzing when she got home from training. Not only was the team looking stellar, really connecting on and off the field, her personal play was at the peak of her career, but she got to go home to Christen. Wonderful, wonderful Christen. And today she had a big surprise for her girlfriend. It has been an amazing ten days together already and Tobin was confident things were all moving in the right direction.

“Honey! I am home” Tobin calls through the apartment and is overjoyed to see Christen curled up on her couch, glasses on, book in hand, looking like a little nerd. Obviously a very hot nerd.

“Tobs!” Christen says with a smile, “You’re back sooner that I thought.” She skips over to the couch as her girlfriend reaches out to pull her down onto the couch with her.

Tobin peppers kisses all over Christen’s face, “I may have broken a few rules of the road to get home as soon as possible.”

A chuckle reverberates through the tennis players chest, against Tobin’s own sternum, “Aren’t I just the luckiest that you’re willing to break laws to be with me.”

“Well” Tobin replies slyly “I may have big plans for this afternoon!”

“More big plans? You have already spoiled me with surprise after surprise. An overnight trip to Mt. Hood, kayaking down the river, dinner at Portland’s best restaurants. What else could you possibly have planned for me?”

Tobin nuzzles against the young woman’s neck taking a second to breathe her in “Would you hate it if I said I wanted it to be a surprise?”

A hand comes up into Tobin’s hair, “You know I don’t love surprises…”

Tobin lifts her head up to meet her girlfriend’s eyes, “Have I left you down so far?”

“Hmm, I guess not...okay, it can be a surprise, but does it involve me getting of this couch cause I am so so comfy.” Strong arms wrap around Tobin’s waist.

The soccer play can’t help but melt into her girlfriend and let out a long sigh, “Unfortunately, yes. And, if I don’t get up right now, I know you’ll use your magic and keep me here all night and we have a reservation.”

Christen stretches out and while doing so exposes a big of her midriff which makes Tobin’s mouth go dry. “Eyes up here, Heath.” A smirk darts across her face.

Tobin blinks and shakes her head back and forth, “Um, right, yeah we need to get moving and you need to change.” Popping off the couch, she pulls her girlfriend up with her spare hand, “You might want your contacts and to change into something you can move in.”

“You just want me to put on yoga pants, don’t you?”

Tobin just winks in response and waits for her girlfriend to be ready.

As they drive towards the secret location, Tobin’s excitement is very evident. While one hand is clasped in Christen’s, the other controls the wheel of the car, but it incessantly drums against the hard rubber.

She keeps glancing over at Christen, who looks like a model with big, stunner shades on, watching out the window as the Portland streets pass by. The tennis player does catches her eyes a few times and she can’t help but blush.

“Why am I having deja vu?” Christen breaks the comfortable quiet.

“Well, I might be taking us back to the scene of the crime” Tobin replies with a grin.

Christen abruptly shifts in her seat and looks Tobin straight on “Why are we going to Nike?” Tobin can’t help but notice that Christen’s voice is a little sharp, but maybe she is just excited.

“You’ll see” she replies in a sing-song voice and gives Christen’s hand a gentle squeeze.

Christen says nothing in return, but just hums a little skeptically, before training her eyes on the Nike campus that is coming into view. 

Instead of heading towards the main entrance, Tobin continues driving one street down and pulls toward the west end of the campus, and follows signs for the tennis pavilion. They emerge through a drive lined with trees to the sight of 24 gorgeous tennis courts, with a backdrop that would leave anyone speechless.

On the fences of the courts, there are larger than life banners adorning the links. Serena, Federer, Agassi. Tobin quickly glances over at her girlfriend expecting to see a wide smile, but instead Christen’s lips are set in a straight line, her hand limp in Tobin’s warm one.

Thinking nothing of it, she drives a little further when all of a sudden, a larger than life Christen Press banner comes into view. 

The picture is iconic.

Christen sliding across clay courts at the French Open, dust rising up around her ankles, racket arm outstretched, connecting with a ball that was just inside the touch line, Nike headband being blown in the wind. The words “Creating Legacy” adorn the sign that Tobin had just pulled in front of, letting go of Christen’s hand to put the car in park.

The tennis player immediately snapped her hand and crossed her arms.

“What are we doing here, Tobin?” The question comes out with a bite that the soccer player had yet to hear out of her girlfriend’s mouth.

Right away, Tobin is confused about the reaction and her brain starts spinning. Did Christen mention not wanting to come here? Was this a bad idea? Her mind starts going a mile a minute.

“Um, well, when I knew you were coming I called Marcie to see if we could get some court time, ya know just to mess around. I figured you would be doing some training and it might be fun to do it together” she starts to ramble, she hears the ramble, she rambles when she is uncomfortable, she had never been uncomfortable with Christen, but her girlfriends severe body language wasn’t making it easy to feel calm. “They were pumped because they can show you your um ya know court here and they are gonna let us test us out some new Nike products. I figured you would just come and kick my ass and it would be a fun day for us.”

A pin drop could be heard in the car as Tobin watches as Christen just stares out of the front windshield at the banner. Her right elbow gripped her in her left hand. The silence carries on and Tobin racks her mind for what to do.

This was not the response she was expecting, to say the least. She thought Christen would relish the opportunity to train. She knows it has been hard for the athlete to find a decent court to play on while in Portland. She had told Tobin the court is always occupied when she heads to the park around the corner and she didn’t want to draw attention to the fact that she is there. 

Tobin also noticed that all the bands she had brought for Christen’s rehab were still in their packages in the gym. Whenever Tobin has brought up tennis over the last 10 days, Christen visibly stiffens.

Light bulb.

Fuck, Tobin thinks. 

“Chris” she starts quietly and reaches out, trying to hold the younger woman’s hand “I, um, I’m sorry. I should have asked…”

“Take me back to the apartment, Tobin” Christen says icily.

Tobin gulps. She knows that Christen isn’t messing around, but really feels like that should talk about what is going. Running a hand through her hair, she takes a deep breath, “Christen, we should talk about this. I want to listen. I want to help.”

Christen snaps her head in Tobin’s direction, silent tears streaming down her face, “Take me the fuck back to the apartment.”  
With a silent nod, Tobin turns the car back on and backs out of the space.  
***  
It takes all her energy to control the tremors that are threatening to take over her entire body. Bile has been rising up in her throat since they pulled onto the Nike campus, and now she feels literally sick to her stomach. Seeing that banner, seeing those courts, seeing Tobin’s eager eyes when she talks about messing around on the courts with her.

It’s too much. It’s overwhelming. It’s smothering.

The ride home goes by in a blur. Silence groping the insides of the car. She can’t even spare a glance at her girlfriend, because she knows it will cause her to break down. Christen knows she only has one option. 

Run.

Tobin pulls into her designated parking space and shuts the car off, and just as she looks like she is going to open her mouth, Christen reaches over to grab the keys out of the ignition and rushes out of the car.

Bursting through the apartment door, keys still in lock, she hurries to the bedroom and quickly fills her suitcase with her stuff. With no rhyme or reason, throwing it all together, jamming it in. She rushes off the bathroom to get her toothbrush and toiletries. Ignoring Tobin’s calls of her name through the apartment.

She comes back into the living room with bags in hand and finds Tobin sitting on the couch with her head in her hands. Can she glide by without being noticed? Of course Tobin’s head snaps up at her entry.

Christen watches as her girlfriend’s face washes over in pain “Where are you going? You’re leaving?”

“Yeah” Christen says quietly, “I am sure there is an early evening flight to LA. This is for the best.”

Tobin is on her feet and bounding over to Christen before the words are out of her mouth.

“Christen, no, you’re not leaving.”

Christen does her best to keep a straight face, “I want to leave Tobin. I don’t want to be here anymore.”

Tears threaten to fall out of Tobin’s honey eyes, “You don’t mean that. Come on. We need to talk about this.”  
Christen tightens her jaw, swallows down another round of bile. “There is nothing to talk about, Tobin. Now, please, just let me go.” She moves to push her bags towards the door, but Tobin’s hand comes down with a vice like grip over hers.

“No.” Tobin says sternly, her eyes stormy and locked on Christen’s own. “Please, Christen, I am begging you don’t leave me.” The soccer’s player voice cracks at the end and tears start to fall down her cheeks. Christen has to rip her eyes away or she knows she won’t last.

“I am doing this for you, Tobin” she says stoically “This is for your own good.”

“That’s not your decision. It’s mine. I want you to stay. I want to talk about all this.”

Christen shakes her head, “You need to let me leave. You need to let me go. You need to move on.

Tobin scoffs, “What the fuck are you talking about Christen? We have one fight, if we can even call it that, one misunderstanding, and you’re bailing? That’s it. This is over? You can’t be serious.”

Christen, “This was a terrible idea. We should have never started this in the first place. I knew it would never work out…”

Tobin interrupts, “What do you mean? Yeah the distance sucks, but we were figuring it out. We had plans. Once season is over I am moving down to LA for a few months. It is worth it. We don’t need to throw it away.”

“It’s not the distance, Tobin.”

“Well then fucking enlighten me, Chris? Did I do something? Do you not like being with me? Tell me what I can do to fix it. I want to be with you so badly, Christen. I will do whatever you want. I’ll be less messy, I will wake up earlier, I will start meditating, I will read the same books, we can do whatever you want.I promise. Just don’t leave.” Christen’s heart was breaking at the sight of the soccer player putting all this on her shoulders. As Tobin takes another deep breath, now Christen interrupts her,

“I am fucking broken, Tobin. You deserve so much more than me. I am a fucking professional tennis player who can’t even pick up a racket. I am a role model for little kids when I can’t even get my fucking life together. I am supposed to be this incredible athlete and I can’t go one day without tremors up and down my arms. I hate myself, Tobin, and you shouldn’t have to deal with that. You shouldn’t have to deal with me and being someone I’m not. You fell for Christen Press the Nike athlete, but I am not her Tobin. I am not the person you can watch from the stands and say ‘wow, i am so lucky to be with her.’ I am nothing, Tobin. I am no one, Tobin. And it’s better you find out now, so I can leave now, before things get more complicated.”

Christen moves towards the door again, as Tobin hadn’t said anything in response. She actually almost gets there this time.

“You’re wrong” Tobin says quietly. “You’re not nothing. You’re everything.”

Christen turns to see Tobin’s honest eyes looking at her.

“I don’t want to be with you because you’re some tennis super star. You could be anything, and I would still want to be with you.”

Christen rolls her eyes, “You don’t mean that.”

“Don’t tell me what I feel or what I mean” now it’s Tobin’s turn to have an edge to her voice, “You clearly don’t know me at all if you think I am so shallow to only be with you cause you’re a tennis player.”

“I don’t think that, Tobin.”

“Well it sure seems like it” the soccer player shrugs. “I clearly haven’t done a good enough job of showing you how I feel about you. I didn’t fall in love with you cause you’re famous. I fell in love with you cause you’re kind, you’re smart, you’re funny in a totally dorky way. I love the way when you get confused you scrunch your eyebrows together. And when you’re explaining something your hands go crazy, fingers pointing in every direction. I fell for the way you laugh at videos of cute puppies and how you deeply love your family and the way you stick your tongue out when you concentrate. I want to be with you for so many other reasons than the fact that you play tennis. You could be anything - a librarian, a lawyer, a grocery bagger, a teacher, an anything, and I would still want to be with you cause you’re you. And I am in love with Christen the person, not the profession.”

Silence falls between both of them. Tobin’s chest heaving after her speech, and Christen frozen in place, stunned by Tobin’s words.

“You love me” Christen asks shyly.

Tobin shrugs “Yeah, I love you.”

Now it Christen’s turn to bound over to Tobin. She wraps her arms around the soccer player and holds her so tightly, it’s like she’s worried at any moment she might. She holds her like she is the most precious thing in the whole world. Cause to Christen, Tobin is the most precious thing.

“I love you, Tobin” Christen whispers against the older woman’s neck, and at that the dam breaks. Christen breaks down. Fully and completely, and it’s Tobin’s arms that become her safety net.   
***

The conversation was long. It was long and it was difficult, but Tobin sat there. Unflappable in her support of Christen. On the floor of her kitchen, with Christen’s bags rolled against the wall, to later be brought into the bedroom. They sat there as Christen told her everything.

The terror of tennis academy.

Her fear of failure.

The dominating pressure that dictated her entire life.

Her inability to allow herself to be anything but the best.

The self loathing that grew over time through every mistake, every misstep.

Her aversion to commitment to any one person.

The injury.

Her surgery.

The recovery.

Her tremors.

The doctors take.

Her insistence that the pain was real.

Tobin sat with her. Took it in her with her. Cried with her. Laughed with her. Kissed words of love into her skin, her mouth, her soul. Sat there and stayed there. Showing Christen that there are people who don’t leave. Proving to Christen that she isn’t alone. Allowing for Christen to lead the way, to set the pace. Offering support, suggestions. Giving her love.

It was hours later, the two women were laying in bed together. The soft hum of the noise machine the only sound in the room.

“Thank you” Christen’s words slide through the silence like a passing wind.

“For what?” She can’t help but ask, thinking she knows the answer.

Her girlfriend slowly sits up, “For being willing to save me. I never used to like the idea of needing someone. But, I can’t help but need you. And I think I am willing to be okay with that.”

Tobin stretches up to place a very soft kiss on Christen’s lips, “We need each other, my love.” 

Christen nods as she brushes her nose against Tobin’s, one of their soft moments together. “Gosh, I am so drained. I actually feel like we did play tennis today.”

Tobin chuckles as Christen settles back in next to her and tucks herself into the crook of Tobin’s neck and wraps her arms around the soccer player. Quiet over takes the two as they just feel each other.

A few minutes later Christen breaks the silence, “Maybe, um tomorrow, we can actually try to play tennis?” She asks quietly, unsure.

“Tomorrow” Tobin promises. “The sun also rises.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Didn't have time to do a full edit of this one, but wanted to get it out to you all. You'll notice I opened up the chapter limit. I am having a lot of fun with this verse and might extend the story a bit. Enjoy!


	5. Chapter 5

“How do you keep winning! This is fucking bonkers” a faceless voice comes through the speaker.

“It’s not my fault you keep hitting bananas...come on Harry those are like the easiest things to avoid.” Another voice replies.

Christen can’t help but giggle to herself, as she picks up bits and pieces of the two soccer players' conversations over FaceTime. She had called Tobin to check in and found that she and Allie were in a heated MarioKart tournament. Although Tobin had what sounded like a commanding lead, Allie insisted they finish their current race or else Tobin forfeit all her other wins.

Christen full out laughed when her girlfriend gave her an apologetic smile and said “Do you mind waiting while we finish this race, babe?”

Now here she was, seemingly propped up against the phone, getting a profile view of Tobin and Allie playing on their Switches. It really is the simple things. Finally, Tobin threw her hands in the air in victory as her Switch fell into her lap.

“And Toad screeeeeeeches across the finish line. Koopa Troopa Island is my bitch!” Before the words are even out of her mouth, Allie is across the bed, pillow in hand beating Tobin with every word.

“There is no way it should be this lopsided unless you are using a secret cheat code.” the blonde said, voice raised with an accusatory look on her face. Tobin shoves her friend off of her with a laugh. “I am telling you, Christen, she trains for MarioKart tournaments whenever she has a free second. She may claim that she is painting or reading or whatever, but she is locked in her bedroom, face in her Switch training! It’s the only logical reason for this craziness.” Allie’s arm reaches across Tobin’s body to grab the phone.

Christen’s screen is filled with a makeshift scoreboard with far more tallies in Tobin’s column than in Allie’s.

“That’s a little hyperbolic, don’t ya think” Tobin’s voice comes through the speaker.

“Agh, shut up” Allie shouts, “You know, Pressy” the scoreboard is dropped and the blonde soccer player comes back into view. “I can’t help but blame some of you for this. Tobin never knew the word hyperbolic before she started dating you.”

The tennis player chuckles at the two soccer players who are not arguing back and forth about the scope of Tobin’s vocabulary. The nickname makes her grin as well. Her girlfriend was on a long stretch of away games, with 3 straight weeks on the road, hotel to hotel, with maybe a 48 layover in Portland. Their communication was limited to text messages, phone calls, and FaceTimes whenever their schedules lined up. Tonight, it seemed like Christen’s call had interrupted a rather intense MarioKart tournament, and Allie was happy to have an outside perspective.

Christen and Allie, much to Tobin’s chagrin, got along incredibly well and the two would even go do “girly things” (Tobin’s words) when Christen would visit Portland. Including but not limited to excessive shopping sprees, redecorating Tobin’s apartment, and brunch. They would drag a less than enthusiastic Tobin and Bati with them to the latter, but typically the two women would go together. Christen knew that Tobin complained, but was actually relieved that she got along with her best friend so well.

“I don’t know, Al, I think she just has the magic touch” Christen winked.

Allie all but gagged on the phone “Okay. you two are truly really gross. I am going to leave you before I literally puke.” She quickly checks her watch “Oh shoooooot. Gotta go, Lindsay and Sonnett should be back from ice cream any second and you know what that means.”

“Jump scare” Christen and Tobin say together.

“Hell yes” Allie rolls off the bed, unceremoniously tossing the phone to Tobin, giving Christen a quick jolt of motion sickness. “This isn’t over, Harry. We will pick this up later. Chris, Harry says you’re coming to Portland for our game in two weeks?”

“Ahh, I hope so. If not, I will come the week before or week after, but I have missed watching you ‘boss up’ the midfield, so I think a trip to Providence Park is called for.”

“Great, there is a new boutique in the Pearl and Tobin won’t go with me, so I am counting you in. See ya soon, love ya losers.” And with that, Allie disappears from the screen and Tobin’s smiling face fills her phone, a distant sound of a door closing.

“Sorry about that, love. You know how competitive Allie can get and you know how much Allie likes talking to you” Tobin smiles.

“Just Allie?” Christen asks with an arched eyebrow.

Tobin laughs and settles in against the crisp whiteness of random hotel pillows. The Thorns played Chicago on Saturday night, and had flown to Houston to prepare for their game against the Dash on Wednesday before a much needed weekend off. She knew Tobin was laid back, but couldn’t help but wish the other woman could be home in her own bed. Christen herself is sitting on her deck at her Manhattan Beach condo, watching the waves crash against the sand, and enjoying the last few moments before the sun went down.

“I guess I kind of like winning and I know I definitely love talking to you” Tobin’s warm brown eyes sparkled. “So, are you feeling ready for tomorrow.”

Christen sighed. Tomorrow was going to be the first day she tried to get back on the tennis courts with her coach. It had been a little over a month since Christen left Portland. After her and Tobin had it out over the whole tennis thing, they tried to go to a park and get on the court, but Christen ended up having a panic attack, which Tobin felt infinitely guilty for and apologized incessantly for the next two weeks Christen lived with her.

She felt so guilty, she even offered to go with Christen to see the Thorns sport psychologist, just to get a taste of what the experience was like, and promised that she could do all the talking and make it about her, just so Christen could get acclimated to the setting.

Watching Tobin sit with the psychologist and find things to talk about when seemingly nothing was wrong with her, and then to witness how proactive and understanding the doctor was gave Christen some hope. Hope that maybe someone could actually help her. It was obvious the doctor knew who Christen was, even mentioning that her daughter was a big tennis player, and always loved watching Christen play and hoped she would get back on the court soon.

So did, Christen. 

She was so grateful for Tobin’s immense patience over the last few weeks. The soccer player truly became Christen’s sounding board for everything she was going through. Tobin took it in stride, seemingly understanding that she was a big reason Christen was even trying. Christen couldn’t help but be inspired by Tobin and not only did she want to be better for their relationship, but Tobin made her realize that she herself was worth getting better for.

Christen sighed and looked out to the waves, running a hand over her hair which was neatly pulled up in a bun on top of her head, “I guess I am as ready as I will be.” She shrugs, “The whole thing seems kind of silly though, doesn’t it? I mean what’s the point of going to a training session when I won’t even hold a racket?”

“I think it sounds kind of cool” Christen looks at her screen to find Tobin smiling at her, “It's like you get to just totally focus on your foot work and approach and do all the mental gymnastics without having to add the flips. Seems like a cool stepping stone.” She shrugs before continuing “I actually mentioned it to my coach, vaguely of course, and we are going to do some stuff tomorrow at walk through without the ball.”

Her heart clenches. She was consistently surprised at Tobin’s commitment to not only herself, but Christen’s journey. “Well, I guess...probably gonna be a lot of picking up tennis balls, and not a lot of use.” 

Tobin purses her mouth, “You’re doing that thing.”

Christen can’t help but roll her eyes. “ Pray, tell, what thing is that?” She looks off in the distance, doing anything but giving her full attention to the phone in her hand.

Tobin sighs and sits up a little straighter in bed and waits, as patiently as possible, for Christen to actually make eye contact with her. Finally green eyes glance up, though Tobin would call these Christen’s stormy eyes. More grey. More distant. 

“The thing where you’re scared something won’t work so it’s not even worth trying because you’re making grand assumptions about the outcome.” Tobin watches as her girlfriend again rolls her eyes, “Babe, there is no harm in trying this. If it doesn’t work, if it feels weird, if it isn’t right, then we go back to the drawing board. But, if you go into thinking it’s not going to work then it never will.”

“Ugh” Christen relents “I know you’re right. I am just really scared. I so badly want to be back on that court.”

“I know you do, love, I know you do. And you will get back out there. I promise, just trust.”  
***  
The apartment filled with the smells of simmering garlic and onions, with roasty, toasty tomatoes. The sounds of The Mama and The Papa’s filtered through her Sonos system, and if they had access, anyone could catch Tobin Heath dancing across her kitchen floor wearing a flannel, running shorts and white socks, crumpled delicately below her calf muscles.

Her mood was effervescent (a word she had learned from Christen). Much in part due to her relationship that was constantly growing. But, she was also playing some of her best soccer and so were the Thorns. After dominating the table the past few seasons, it had been a while since they felt confident enough to take home the championship trophy, but for some reason this season felt different.

Their biggest foes were the Courage, and to their credit, the North Carolina team was peaking at the right time as well. They were the favorites to win the shield, but Tobin knew the Thorns were going to be the most dangerous team in the playoffs. The squad was lucky enough to have their final bye week lined up with the last week of the regular season, so they got a nice long rest before hosting the Red Stars in the first playoff match.

Seems like their coach was feeling generous, because he even gave the team an extended weekend off, Thursday to Sunday, with just a few bits of homework, like film and rehab. This meant that Christen and Tobin would actually get to spend some time together when they visited one another, instead of catching each other in between obligations. 

It wasn’t ideal, but the women made it work. Of course they wish they could spend uninterrupted time together, but they were eternally grateful that their schedules and proximity allowed for 48 excursions. They were both more than willing to make the trips, and this weekend was going to be a big one. Tobin was planning to bring up her plans to move to LA for the offseason and also ask Christen to move in with her during the Thorns regular season.

It just felt right. Moving to LA was one thing - Tobin had her own spot, her own friends, her own community, but asking Christen to move in with her in Portland felt huge. While the tennis player had become very accustomed to the city and Tobin’s life there, uprooting had always been a big trigger for her, and Tobin didn’t want her to feel rushed or pressured, but also couldn’t imagine having to keep living apart.

So, here she was, making her mom’s famous red sauce, freshly rolling out homemade pasta dough, and had Christen’s favorite bottle of Syrah cooling to the perfect 56 degrees. The tennis player was flying in from Florida, where she had been for an entire week training with a few other professionals out at IMG. 

Tobin remembers the day that Christen turned a huge corner in her comeback. The two women had a long phone call in the morning, having breakfast together over FaceTime, before spending a while talking about the upcoming training Christen had planned. Nerves and anxiety had the green eyed beauty in a twist, but with Tobin’s love and confidence she was finally able to smile and made a promise to do her best.

It was a few hours later, as Tobin was hopping out of her car having arrived at the park for practice when a FaceTime from Christen came in. Tobin swiped to open the call and was about to tell Christen she would have to call her back.

“BABY BABY BABY WATCH THIS” the phone was handed off and Tobin watched as Christen threw a ball in the hair and struck it with her racket, before the woman ran back to retrieve her phone, “I CAN HIT A FUCKING TENNIS BALL!”

From that day, Christen has been a woman on a mission. Getting back into regular training and trying to find as many matches as possible. More than a few times Tobin has been sent videos of Tyler attempting to return one of Christen’s serves, and on more than one occasion breaking a racket in frustration after not being able to return said serve.

Only Tyler.

Now Christen was on the back end of a week in Florida with some of her old training partners. There were definitely highs and lows throughout the week, but all in all, she was able to keep up and was feeling more confident and more herself than ever before. 

Tobin is just adding some red wine to the simmering sauce, when she hears keys in the doors. At first she thinks it might be Lindsay coming downstairs to borrow something, until the visitor calls from the doorway.  
“Honey! I am home!”

Tobin skids around the corner of the entryway, “Chris, holy shit, I didn’t expect you for another 2 hours.” The tennis player, completely ignoring her girlfriend’s surprise, rushes towards Tobin and wraps her in a huge, bone crushing hug.

While showering her girlfriend with kisses, Christen murmurs “There was an earlier flight and I just missed you so much and wanted to get home.”

Tobin’s heart dropped at Christen referring to the apartment as home, “Well I am so glad you’re here. You’re even in time to make the pasta with me! Let me help grab your stuff.”

Christen did a little happy dance, “I love seeing you with flour on your nose.”

Tobin huffs as scoops up Christen’s travel tennis bag, “I only get flour on my nose because you put it there!” She follows after her girlfriend who has already made her way into the apartment, a huge smile ripping across her face.  
***

She has dated professional athletes before, so she knows that it is usually a bad idea to lean into any form of competition, but whenever Tobin pouted she relented, which is how they found themselves at a local park around the corner, tennis rackets in hand.

Christen had gotten Tobin some custom Nike rackets, that had #17 pressed into the handle, as well as images of Providence Park around the head. The grips were Christen’s personal grips, which she thought were the best in the game. The way Tobin acted when she held her racket, one might think she was Serena Williams. She oozed cockiness and confidence, even though she could barely get a racket head on one of Christen’s serves.

What Christen loved about playing tennis with Tobin, as compared to Tyler, is that Tobin didn’t scream at Christen, instead she just laughed and hit the ball back over the net while saying. “I am going to get it one of these days.” 

Competition was different with Tobin. 

If they were playing a board game or trivia, things got intense and they would be at each other’s throats. One day they decided to do a track workout together, which Tobin assumed she would crush the tennis player at, but little did she know Christen used to be All-State. 

But, when they played each other’s sports together, it was a vibe of total support and comfort. Just being together, seeing the other one do what they loved pushed all the competition away.  
“Okay, I have an idea” Tobin called over the net, “Why don’t you serve lefty, so at least I have a small, teeny, tiny. microscopic chance of returning it, and then we can actually try to hit around for a bit.”

Christen smiles and shakes her head while casual bouncing the ball on the side of racket, “So, I just have to serve lefty, but can play all my returns with my strong hand?” She approaches the net to get closer to her girlfriend who is casually leaning against the wire.

Tobin’s face scrunches in the most adorable way, “Hmm, good point. Maybe you should just play the whole game lefty.”

Now Christen belly laughs, as she reaches out and wraps her arms around Tobin’s shoulders, “Fine, but if you beat me you can’t brag. I just completed my first month of training with my strong arm, and haven’t even thought about my weak hand.”

“All I am hearing is excuses” Tobin says with a grin as she turns her head to kiss up and down Christen’s scar. A habit she got into after Christen would come home from therapy or training. Healing kisses. “I mean you already are at a huge advantage because you have the whole tennis get up on. I am over here in soccer shorts.”

“I offered you a skirt.”

“I don’t want to distract you more than I already do” Tobin winks before planting a chaste kiss on Christen’s lips and backing up, “Okay you serve first.”

The two women played for a bit, Tobin even managing to score a point of Christen at one point, however to be fair, a very cute dog got loose on the court and Christen dropped her racket to herd the puppy, while Tobin claimed that she made contact with the ball before the distraction.

It was Christen’s serve and she checked her skirt and realized she was out of balls. Looking around there were no balls on her side of the court either. All the yellow orbs were littered on Tobin’s side of the court, or, unfortunately, over the fence behind Christen when Tobin tried to “put a little mustard on it.”

“Tobs?” she calls, “Can you send me like 3 or 4 balls? I am out.”

Her girlfriend shoots her a quick thumbs up, but instead of collecting balls behind her, she goes into Christen’s spare tennis bag which she now uses as her own, and grabs four balls. 

Christen thinks nothing of it, and just raises her racket waiting for her girlfriend to send them over. They come in one by one and Christen stores three in her skirt, before walking back towards the service line. She spins the ball in hand out of habit and looks at it before tossing it to the sky, and notices black sharpie marks. She rotates the ball and notices it’s not marks but a word has been written in Tobin’s distinct handwriting.

In

Christen gets the feeling Tobin is up to something and quickly drops her racket and pulls the other 3 balls out of her skirt to see if there was more messaging. 

With

Me?

Move.

She rearranges them in the only order that makes any sense. 

Move in with me?

Her heart starts racing. 

Holy shit. Tobin is asking her to move in with her.

Holy shit.

She looks up and sees Tobin hasn’t moved from her bag, she is just standing there wringing her hands, a tell tale sign that she is nervous. 

As casually as possible, Christen scoops up the four balls and makes her way to the other side of the net.

“Hi” she whispers to Tobin who looks like she was hit with a wave of nausea.

“Sup” Tobin replies with a crack in her voice.

This forces Christen to beam, her sweet, awkward girlfriend, “So, these balls don’t seem to be regulation.”

Tobin scratches at the back of her neck and adjusts the hat on her head, “Oh, yeah, had those special made.”

Christen hums in response, “Here in Portland?”

Tobin nods.  
“That’s really cool. I didn’t even know there were places like this in Portland.”

Tobin nods again.

“Maybe it means I should spend some more time here then, huh?”

Now it’s Tobin’s turn to beam, “Really?”

Christen drops the balls and pulls Tobin in by the drawstring of her shorts so she can kiss her, fully, deeply.

“Really” she breathes against the soccer player’s face.

“I know it seems soon, but it also seems right.”

Christen nods against Tobin’s forehead, “Are you sure you’re ready for all my clothes to be in your closets.”

Tobin pulls her in closer, “Well, I figure that when we live in LA during the off season you will have to deal with all sneakers, so its definitely an even trade.” 

“You would do that?”

“Do what, bring all my sneakers? Duh, Chris. It’s kind of my thing.”

Christen slaps Tobin’s shoulder, “No, dummy. Move to to LA during the off season? I thought you loved having Portland as home base.”

Tobin shrugs, “Your family is there, your doctors and trainers are there, you’re there’ she shrugs again, “These past 8 months have made me realize that I don’t really care where home base is, as long as it’s with you.”

Christen smiles and kisses Tobin again, “I can’t believe you’re making me a made woman.”

“We are just getting started.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the longer wait. Updates will probably be weekly now. Work has gotten totally crazy. Enjoy!


	6. Chapter 6

Christen has always been squeamish. Not a fan of blood, needles, gross out videos, which were very popular among the athletes at the academy. 

Tyler mercilessly took advantage of this aversion for their entire childhood, and their adulthood, to be fair. Not even two weeks ago the sisters were cooking dinner at their dad’s house, when Tyler nicked her hand while grating cheese. There was barely blood, but it was enough to make Christen sprint into the backyard as Tyler shoved her injured hand in her sister’s face.

The tennis player especially hated when ESPN or some other sports network would replay athletes getting injured over and over again. Not only did it remind her of her own injury, which played on loop for days because of the dramatics, but it made her stomach drop to her toes and sent chills up her spine. 

She was facing off against Angelique Kerber during the Australian Open, a huge match for Christen who was just peeking her head into the top 50, and a strong showing against Kerber would be huge for her trajectory. Christen had forced a third set, after a huge comeback in the 2nd after being down 4 games to nothing. It was the third game, with Kerber up 40-love. Christen knew getting a win in this game would give her the 2-1 advantage and would be a huge momentum swing. 

The two rallied the point back and forth for what felt like 10 minutes. Christen waiting and waiting for Kerber to make the first aggressive move, but the older woman was being more patient than usual. Christen played a particularly looping ball to Kerber’s weakside and assumed Kerber would play a straightforward play up the sideline. Instead, the German sliced the ball back to Christen’s weak hand, sending a zinger towards the opposite touch line. 

Christen made a run for it, transferring all her weight from outside to inside, and took off towards the ball. She managed to outstretch her right arm, barely getting a piece of the ball in an attempt to push the game and send it back over the net. Her racket flew out of her hand on her attempt on the ball.

Unfortunately, she was unable to stop her momentum and careened towards the edges of the court. Typically, the space between the court and barricades would have been enough for the woman to slow down, but today they were playing on Court 7, a notoriously small space and Christen found herself falling head first into the barricades. 

Instead of letting her shoulder take the brunt of the fall, she stuck her right arm out.

Wrong choice. An impact and a resounding popping sound, Christen stood with her right arm immobile, the weight of her arm being held in her left hand.

TV stations, websites, tennis blogs watched every angle of the play, trying to see just how the tennis player injured her arm. Christen remembered having to delete all forms of social media for close to two months before something else filled her news feed.

Needless to say, watching an injury once was enough for her, except for when the player getting injured was Tobin.

The Thorns were in the NWSL finals against the North Carolina Courage, with the game being played in Seattle, as the Reign had been named championship hosts the season before. Christen tried to make it up for the game, but she had been booked to compete in the Desert Smash Celebrity Tournament that same weekend in La Quinta. 

Tobin was understandably bummed, but knew just how important it was for Christen to get back into the swing of competing, even if it was a charity event and her doubles partner was someone from Vanderpump Rules. She knew her girlfriend was secretly hoping that Lisa would make an appearance.

Instead, Christen and Tyler rented out a bar in Manhattan Beach for a viewing party. Well, Christen rented it out, but Tyler was in charge of the guest list as her sister would be driving back from the tournament just in time for kick off. The Press sisters really knew how to throw a party, and the bar was packed with their friends and family, most decked out in Thorns gear cheering for their makeshift hometown favorite.

Christen walks into the bar, fresh from the shower after a quality day on the courts, just in time for Tyler to teach everyone the Riveters cheers while standing on a bar stool.

‘So it goes like this ‘P-T CLAP CLAP F-C CLAP CLAP” the woman shouts to the crowd, “All together now!”

She scowls at the party goers looking up at her, “Okay y’all that’s the easiest one, so if we can’t nail that one we probably shouldn’t try any more.” She takes a pull from her drink and says “Let’s try it one more time, from the top” just as she is about to conduct the crowd she notices her younger sister making her way towards the bar, “Oh, Christen! Yay. I need help with the Raso cheer.”

Christen just shakes her head as she leans over the bar and asks for a club soda.

“That’s really all you, Ty” the tennis player calls out to her sister.

Tyler rolls her eyes at her sister, “I fucking guarantee all of you if Tobin had her own cheer, this one would be leading the parade. The pride parade. Rainbows everywhere!”

Christen stage whispers to the bartender “Feel free to cut her off at any time.”

The viewing party unfolds as one would expect, as the game begins, folks settle into their watching groups, ebbing and flowing with the game itself. Tyler is particularly vocal, being the biggest natural soccer fan of the group. Christen’s eyes stay trained on Tobin. 

She gets such a thrill watching her girlfriend play. It’s like watching someone do something they were absolutely born to do. Tobin was born to have a ball at her feet, she truly created magic on the pitch. Her career longevity was no surprise, and according to Tobin herself she still had a decade in the tank. 

Half time came without much excitement. It certainly was an overly physical matchup, the Thorns really “parking the bus” against the Courage’s transitional attacking game. Tobin had told Christen the night before that the Thorns goal was to build a wall and make the Courage go around them, not through them, and thus far it seemed to be working.

The second half got rolling and the physicality grew by the second. Players were being thrown around like rag dolls and yellow cards were being handed out like candy. Tobin had been on the receiving end of a couple of particularly nasty hits. 

Christen’s stomach twisted each and every time her girlfriend peeled herself up and off the pitch. Wincing as she limped away and continued to play. She had been nursing a club soda all evening, hand gripped tightly around the glass, leaning tautly against the bar, stiff as a board.

Tyler slides into the stool next to her standing sister, “Deep breath, Mo. Tobin is used to this kind of abuse. You should see her in national games against Canada. It’s like the country thinks it is directly Tobin’s fault they are worse than we are.”

She hums in response, eyes still trained on the TV, the Courage was pressuring in the Thorns end and in the blink of an eye, Lynn Williams screeched past Menges and laid the perfect cross onto a streaking Kristen Hamilton who buried the ball past AD. The keeper didn’t even have a chance.

“Fuck” Christen groans. The Thorns were down 1-0 with fewer than 25 minutes to play. “Can I get a whiskey please?” She calls over to the bartender.

“Here we fucking go!” Tyler chants. “It’s rally time y’all” she cheers to the crowd, “We need the Thorns to feel our energy all the way in Tacoma!”

The whiskey gets pushed in front of Christen and she downs it with a grimace. She’s anxious. It is different then the anxiety she feels during a tennis match. Usually she feels tense during a match and it slowly strips away as she finds small successes, but this anxiety is different. She feels it in her heart. 

Every minute that passes and the Thorns trail, her heart clenches. 

Every moment they show Tobin on the field, with an intensity in her eyes, and a chip on her shoulder, her heart clenches.

She just wants to wrap the soccer player in her arms, kiss the worry from her forehead away, and see her smile. Instead, she is hundreds of miles away, forced to watch through a screen. Christen put all her faith in energies and right now all she could do was send Tobin good energy.

It was the 75th minute when the Thorns were finally able to break through the dreaded Courage midfield. Sinc and Lindsey linked up on passes through the center, and Lindsey slotted a beautiful ball to the outside, right onto the foot of a storming Kling. Christen watched as Kling delicately danced up the sideline, averting the oncoming defense. 

Kling was able to push the ball all the way up the sideline into the Thorns attacking third before she sent a monster of a cross in, the announcers voice filled the bar,

“And there is the cross. Heath! There is Heath streaking in from the right side. Heath brings it down against her body, shifts way from Dahlkemper, Heath winds up, Heath strikes….GOAL GOAL GOAL! The Thorns equalize! The Thorns equalize!”

The bar erupts in noise, but all Christen can do is yell, “REWIND IT! REWIND IT”

“Christen, can you believe Tobin just scored!” Tyler screams in her ear as she and Franny do a victory dance.

Christen reaches over the bar and grabs the remote to rewind the game, praying the bar has DVR or TiVo. 

Tyler grabs her arm, “Chris what the hell are you doing?”

“Tobin got hurt.”

Tyler shakes her head, mystified, “What are you talking about? She shifted the defender, clear shot. She’s fine, the announcers would have said something,”

Christen’s green eyes are trained to the TV, “It was after, someone step on her plant foot, I swear…”  
Just as she was finishing her words, the goal replayed, and all Christen saw Tobin fall to a heap on the ground. Tyler grabbed the controller and switched to live, which now saw the Thorns team surrounding their forward, a pile of red on the ground, the number 17 barely visible through the legs. The bar fell silent and the announcer’s voice yet again filled the room,

“Scary sight here, folks. Upon replay, it looks as the Jaelene Hinkle caught the plant foot of Heath as she struck the ball, causing the foot to stay on the ground against the momentum of her body. Let’s take a look.”

Tyler shudders and moves to turn Christen away from the screen, “You’re not going to want to watch this, Chris.”

“Stop, I’m fine.” Christen says as she grits her teeth and watches the injury in slow motion. Just as Tobin’s right foot connects with the ball, all the momentum should have lifted her left foot off the ground as well, but because of the defender, her leg moved but her foot didn’t. 

It was like her leg and ankle disconnect.

Pain flashes against Tobin’s face as the ball soars into the net, her teammates dog pile on her, not realizing she is injured. As they all back away, Tobin’s hand beats against the grass. Agonizing screams coming from her mouth. 

“Play it again” Christen says.

“Chris….”

“Just do it, Ty.” 

Eventually, Tobin gets carted off the field, and is immediately replaced by a substitute. There is no question she is done for the day. 

Christen’s heart sinks as Tobin lifts a weak hand to wave at the Riveters in the crowd who give her a loud cheer. It sinks even further as the medical staff brings Tobin immediately into the locker room.

The game commences, with Hinkle getting a yellow card because the play was outside the box, but it is obvious the Thorns want vengeance and are playing with renewed energy. They are going to win this for Tobin.

Christen can barely watch. 

She is staring at her phone, almost willing Tobin to text her, though she knows that’s an impossibility. Helpless washes over her. What can she do? How can she help? Tobin was supposed to fly to LA in a few days' time and then they were supposed to be off a quick vacation before Christen returned to training. 

What would she want? What would Tobin do for her?

With that, she grabbed her purse off the chair and opened her Lyft app, and left that bar without a goodbye to anyone. She would text Tyler from the car.

Spontaneity isn’t Christen’s style, but she knew in this moment she needed to act fast. The car ride buzzed by, as she pulled the game up on a stream on her phone. The Thorns meant business, and in the last few minutes of regulation, they earned a corner kick, and Kling sent a beauty of a ball into the box, which Lindsey put away with ease. After that, they parked the bus, and dribbled out the clock.

At least they won, she thought, as the car rolled to a stop at the curb. With a quick thank you, Christen made a dash inside and found the shortest line. She waited impatiently, her foot tapping, and sent a few texts to cover her bases.

One to Tyler to tell her to sign the tab and thank everyone for coming.  
Another to her coach saying she needed to move her training back from 10 AM to 2 PM on Monday.  
A final one to Tobin, telling her she loved and she was so proud of her.

Finally, she was first in line, “Hi, I need a one way ticket to Portland.”  
***  
Tobin woke up with a start, a shocking pain shot through her left ankle, as she takes a deep breath, the sharp pain subsides into a pain that just radiates. She had rolled over and the movement, one that was so natural not even two weeks ago, was now near intolerable. Sitting up in bed, she gave her eyes a moment to adjust to the negligible lighting in the room. Just the strong beams of a full moon coming in through the gauzy window treatments. The french doors leading to the bedroom patio were slightly ajar, allowing for a natural breeze into the room.

She slowly shuffled herself to the edge of the bed and delicately placed her right foot on the cool, wood floor, before slowly and even more delicately placing her left one down. She can’t help but wince at the swollen toes, foot, and ankle. The discoloration coming through in patches, which was alarming. Blood flowing inconsistently to the injury. The indentation from the horseshoe pad all but gone, which means the swelling has been intense since she went to bed.. The soccer player sighs before slowing easing herself up.

..and with a grunt she falls back onto the bed.

“Tobs? What do you think you’re doing?” a groggy voice calls from behind. She feels the warmth of a hand being placed on her back.

Busted.

“Just couldn’t sleep. I was going to go sit on the porch for a minute.”

Christen clicked on the lamp on the bedside table and quickly got up and moved to Tobin’s side of the bed. Her curls were everywhere, wild around her face. Eyes tired and droopy for being woken up from a deep sleep.

“Stay here.” She leans over to place a few soft kisses against her hairline, “Let me go grab your crutches and I will come sit with you.” Christen glides to the corner of the room where she last left Tobin’s crutches.

For being early November, the night was warm, and the mugs of tea Christen had brought out weren’t necessary for warmth, but it provided a welcome distraction to Tobin. Something to keep her hands occupied.

After a few minutes of the women sitting in a comfortable silence, only the crash of the waves and the ambient noise of a car in the distances filling the air, Tobin speaks up, “I am sorry I woke you up” she whispered quietly, “I just needed a breather.”

Christen shifts her attention to her girlfriend, placing a comforting hand on the woman’s thigh, “What’s going on in that head, love? You’ve been distracted since you got here.”

Tobin flew into LA two days prior, after the Thorns had taken home the NWSL championship in a thrilling win over the Courage. She had always intended to spend a majority of her offseason in Los Angeles, with a few quick trips to see family and friends peppered in. But, she didn’t think she would be starting her off season like this.

She pictured it on a secluded beach in Mexico, with fresh coconut drinks, an infinity pool, and Christen in very skimpy bikinis. 

Instead, she found Christen with nothing but her purse in their apartment in Portland, waiting for Tobin to come home, so Christen could be there with her for her travels to LA. After the game, they had texted a little after the game, Christen saying she would have to call her later because she was still with her friends and family at the bar and it was so loud. Tobin was actually glad not to call, she knew it would end up with her being passed from person to person and she wasn’t in the mood for congratulations. 

Don’t misunderstand, she was beyond thrilled they won. Thrilled she was able to be on the field for celebrations, but she was also in an insane amount of pain. So words of love from Christen to make the bus ride pass more quickly would suffice until she was home and could call her girlfriend. The call would prove unnecessary. 

Lindsey drove Tobin back to their apartment building, deciding that Lindsey and Emily would go get Tobin’s car the next day, and tried to convince her the whole way home to come out with the team. That it wasn’t often they got to be back in Portland after a championship match. Tobin’s will was breaking, knowing that celebrating would do her some good emotionally, but physically might be the wrong move.

Tobin had been running on adrenaline since the injury. She knew it was but she also knew she needed to be tough for her team. When Lindsey and Emily got her off the elevator, she assured them she could crutch to her door. With a quick see you soon, they continued their ride to Lindsey’s floor. All the adrenaline left her when she opened the door to Christen. 

All the strength she had left her body, and she all but fell into her girlfriends waiting arms, tears cascading down her face. 

It was agonizing watching the final minutes of the game off a small screen in the training room, and it took all her willpower not to jump to her feet when Lindsey slotted that header past the outstretched arms of Labbe. A tear rolled down her cheek as she realized they had just won another NWSL championship.

Then she looked down at her ankle, which was hanging a little limply off the end of her leg. She was able to put some moderate pressure on the foot, which the trainers seemed happy with, but she had very little mobility. Without much else to do, they put Tobin in a walking boot and gave her crutches. Until a doctor got a look at it, all they could do was control the swelling. 

“It’s not a regular ankle sprain, Chris” she dead pans into the night, “This is worse.”

“Okay, so it’s worse, and we go to the doctor tomorrow and you get your MRI and then we get the results and then we deal with them.” The tennis player says it so matter-of-factly it’s like she was telling Tobin what to get from the grocery store.

“We?” Tobin shakes her head “Babe, I don’t need you worrying about me. You have made so much progress. All this will just be a distraction…”

Christen shoots her hand up to cover Tobin’s mouth, “You’re crazy if you think for one second I am not going to be by your side for this whole thing. Tobin, you saved me, you saved my career. You have been taking care of me since the day we met, now let me take care of you.”

Tobin lays kisses against Christen’s palm. Just nodding her head, a silent affirmation of agreement. It has always been difficult for Tobin to accept help. Always one to do things on her own, the nomad. But she knows Christen won’t stand for it. 

“I just can’t believe how crazy these past few months have been….”

Christen nods and scoots a little closer to Tobin, so the arms of their chairs are touching. She slowly slides her hand into Tobin’s and raises it to kiss the back of her hand. Being as soft as possible.

“Crazy, yes” Christen concedes. “But, Tobs, these past few months have also been some of the happiest of my entire life. Hell, the past 10 months have been the happiest of my entire life and that’s because of you. I would take crazy with you than normal with someone else any day.”

Tobin reaches over and pulls Christen into her lap, “Babe, your leg.”

“Shh” Tobin chides, “You’re barely 120 pounds, my leg is fine. I got soccer quads.”

Begrudgingly, Christen settles into Tobin’s lap, trying to put most of her weight on her girlfriend’s strong leg.

"I love you" she kisses into Christen's shoulder "so much, Christen."

"And I love you." 

The two sit there, letting the still of the night wash over them. Like the waves washing across the sand. A stillness in the chaos of their life, a moment just to breathe, in and out, with each other. Christen’s forehead settled against Tobin’s temple, the older woman’s arms wrapped securely around her waist. 

Their breath becomes synchronous. In together. Out together. 

Together.


	7. Chapter 7

BANG. BANG. BANG. 

A moment of respite. 

BANG. BANG. BANG 

A small frustrated murmur.

“It’s been like this all week” Christen says with a sigh as she leans over to turn up the music a bit and takes another sip of her wine. She tries to be annoyed because well the behavior is mildly annoying, but really underneath it all she is so happy. Happy to have her garage wall battered to bits if it means that Tobin can have a ball at her feet, and that her feet are outside, and not inside where there has been far too many close calls with the ball and her many potted plants.

Tyler can’t help but laugh as she takes another sip of wine, “So the cast comes off and she has just been banging a soccer ball against your garage every day?” The women’s conversation is being constantly interrupted by rhythmic banging of the outer wall of Christen’s condo and an intermittent groan.

“Yup. And she is still in a walking boot on her left foot, so she really spends more time hobbling to get the ball if it takes an errant bounce” she shakes her head, “Last night she came in complaining her left hip was hurting for no apparent reason. It’s like well Tobs maybe it's because you’re running around with a boot on. She just has so much energy.”

Tyler is over for her weekly wine and cheese night with Christen, which Tobin inevitably joins once she sees the spread her girlfriend lays out. She tries to let the sisters have their time to gossip and catch up, but she really can’t say no to a triple creme brie or Christen. But, tonight was a little different. A week ago, Tobin got her cast from her ankle surgery removed, and she was able to weight bear to tolerance while in a walking boot, which she immediately took as permission to get back into training, much to Christen’s chagrin.

The tennis player reaches forward and pops a castelvetrano olive in her mouth, “I am just worried she is doing too much too soon.”

The older Press sister hums in response, “She must have been dying the past few weeks being holed up in here, living with your neurotic ass, and not getting any activity.”

“Excuse you” Christen scoffs “Living with me is an absolute joy and don’t you worry, she got plenty of activity.”

“Gag me” Tyler cringes and Christen just smirks as she takes a sip of wine. 

“Kill a girl for knowing how to keep her woman satisfied, fully able bodied or otherwise.”

“DOUBLE GAG ME!”

Both women erupt into a fit of giggles and soon they dive into other topics of conversation, steering away from Christen and Tobin’s active love life and focusing primarily on younger sister Channing’s boyfriend Mychal who they both agree could be the one for her. She has been on a very spiritual path since graduating from Villanova and Mychal entered her life at the perfect point. Tyler wasn’t convinced that his music career would ever take off, but Christen had higher hopes. They get so entrapped in conversation, they don’t even notice the banging has stopped and soon the door opens and a very red-faced Tobin enters the living room.

“Well, well, well” the soccer player slowly walks into the room, her natural gait inhibited by a walking boot, “if it’s not my favorite Press sister.” Christen flashes a wide grin at Tyler, “Oh, and you Christen!” Christen’s grin quickly changes to a frown as she swats at her girlfriend’s arm, as she bends down to give her a kiss.

“Just kidding love” Tobin swoops in and plants a soft kiss on Christen’s cheek which leads to her planting a few more on various parts of the tennis player’s face.

“How’s the ankle feeling, Tobs?” Tyler asks before Tobin had the chance to keep peppering Christen’s face with kisses. This wasn’t Tyler’s first rodeo and she knows that given the chance, the two professional athletes would forget she was there in no time.

Tobin plops down in the seat next to Christen and starts unstrapping her walking boot to loosen it up a bit, “It’s getting there. Feels amazing to not be in the cast anymore.”

“And how is the side of Christen’s garage?” Tyler smirks, “permanent structural damage yet?”

Tobin blushes and looks over at Christen, “Shit, is it really loud in here when I do that?”

Christen opens her mouth to respond, laying a loving hand on Tobin’s thigh but of course, Tyler cuts in, “Well, Tobin, it’s not, not loud.”

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t even realize…”

“Babe” Christen cuts her off, “Don’t worry about it, I can take some banging off the walls as long as you are happy and getting back into...safely.”

She gives her girlfriend a soft smile, “I am actually hoping to be able to go to TOCA next week with ARod and do some real training. So you won’t need to deal with the noise for that much longer, I promise.”

“Next week?” Christen asks with a slight quiver in her voice, “Isn’t that soon to be doing a full training.”

The two athletes have had this conversation a few times since it was clear Tobin would be on the mend soon, and Christen really didn’t want to get into anything in front of Tyler, but she was concerned about Tobin’s personal timeline for her recovery. Tobin, on the other hand, promised Christen she knew what she was doing and she had the best trainers in the city, and she wasn’t going to do anything to set back her return to play. In her heart of hearts, Tobin knew that it was really hard for Christen to watch Tobin get injured, but also, even if she might not admit it, equally hard for the tennis player to see her recover so easily, swiftly, and timely.

It’s not that Christen was jealous, she was still struggling to understand her own recovery, and it was difficult to not compare herself to Tobin.

Now it was Tobin’s turn to put a loving hand on Christen’s thigh, “Don’t worry, TOCA has this really cool machine, it’s almost like um, I don’t know, anti-gravityesque, so I will be able to be totally non weight bearing on my left foot, but still do activity? It’s hard to explain. But I am going to be in for a treadmill workout and ball skills. ARod will be the one on the shooting machine.”

Christen seems somewhat satisfied with Tobin’s answer, but the soccer player knows her mind is still going.

“It’ll be fine, Chris, I promise. Okay? Just trust me.”

“I do, Tobs. I do trust you. I just” her green eyes snap up and catch Tyler who is gesturing for this to not happen in front of her, “You know what, it’s fine, we can talk later. I am glad you are getting to see ARod and get back into TOCA. Honest.”

“So, Tobin, when do you think you’ll be back into full team training?” Tyler asks quickly trying to move on, but she is genuinely fascinated by Tobin’s job and obsessed with soccer, so she really can’t help herself. 

With one last meaningful look at Christen, who is now very interested in the handles of the knives of the cheeseboard, Tobin turns to Tyler, “We will head back up to Portland at the end of February. I can’t jump into training yet, but want to get back in with theThorns physio. My goal is to be ready for a March call up, even if I can’t fully compete at She Believes.”

Christen can’t help but roll her eyes, a March call up would mean Tobin’s rehab took 6 weeks shorter than doctor’s predicted for her to be able to ease into contact, but she kept her mouth shut. Tyler again noticed the tension and did her best to ease conversation elsewhere.

“So what are y’all going to do with Tobin’s place? It seems crazy to be paying rent on two spots down here.”

Christen took another pull of her wine glass with a grimace. Unintentionally, Tyler struck another chord with the couple who just a few weeks before had been discussing future plans and Christen mentioned maybe Tobin selling or leasing or even Air BnBing her spot in Manhattan Beach, since she was a full time resident at Christen’s condo and the conversation went all but nowhere.

“Oh yeah!” Tobin said with a smile as she pulls her phone out of her pocket, “Y’all remember Mal Pugh? Well she and a few of her former UCLA teammates were looking for a place to sublet in between seasons because they train with Dave at Beastmode and he is LA bound, so I sublet the spot to her.” Tobin shows Tyler a few pictures of what Mal had done with Tobin’s apartment.

“I didn’t know you had done that Tobs” Christen says quietly, “When we last talked about it you seemed adverse to leasing.”

Tobin looks at her girlfriend’s cool, grey eyes “Nah, I just don’t know if I am ready to sell. Renting makes a ton of sense, I just needed someone I could trust to take care of the ol’ girl. She means a lot to me, ya know? But I sure am glad my new home has you in it.” She leans over and kisses Christen softly on the lips, “Okay, I need to get this boot off fully and hop in the shower. I will let you two gals keep gossipping about me behind your back.”

Tyler rolls her eyes “I had to beg Christen to not keep talking about your sex life.”

“She should talk about it, it’s groundbreaking” Tobin winks at Tyler before squeezing Christen’s hand and shuffling out of the room towards the bedrooms.

“Soooooo, this Manhattan Beach house is better cause you’re there, huh?” Tyler grins at her younger sister who was adoringly watching her girlfriend walk away.

Christen shakes her head, “She surprises me sometimes. There are times when we talk and I am honestly not sure what she is processing or whether or not we are on the same page, and then boom, she makes decisions that are totally with us in mind.”

“I think it’s just the way she processes. She wants all the information before making a decision. She is so in the moment sometimes, I think she just forgets about external factors. I bet she didn’t even realize that her having the apartment down here bothered you” Tyler says thoughtfully.

“Ugh” Christen pouts before sitting back and crossing her arms “it didn’t ‘bother’ me, but I just didn’t want her to feel like this place wasn’t home or whatever. When we are in Portland, her apartment is home, so I just like the idea that this is home.”

“Shut up, you know she wants to be around you every second. It bothered you that she might feel like she needs an escape from you. You always get this way. You’re just as good for her as she is for you, Chris.”

“Want to hear just how good she is for me?” Christen says with a grin while raising her eyebrows.

“For the FINAL time….GAG ME.”

***

Things had all been moving according to plan since Tobin was cleared to begin rehab and getting back into soccer. Much to Christen’s delight, she was taking the words of her team doctors and physical therapists very seriously, and she even put up with Christen’s constant nagging of “are you sure you should do that?” or “let’s put that foot in an ice bath” or “Tobin you’re not putting your boots on just for fun.”

Once they got through that phase, Tobin buckled in and focused on her rehab and training, so when she was finally cleared, she would be up to fitness. She was just about four months post operation, and the doctors were confident that anywhere between 4 and 6 months she could start conditional training and then her coaches could decide match fitness.

Of course, Tobin’s goal was to be match fit by the time she was clear to team train within the next few weeks, she just wasn’t sharing that information with Christen. 

The soccer player was finally clear to run, so she and Christen would go on runs together either in their neighborhood, moderate sprint workouts at local tracks, or on the beach by the condo.It always caught Tobin by surprise just how fast Christen was. Tobin had her beat endurance wise seeing as she runs almost 7 miles every game, but Christen could smoke her in a sprint. The tennis player was explosive and she soon learned to never accept a “last one there” challenge.

The couple had just finished a beach run and had decided to stay on the sand to watch the sunset as the waves rolled in.

“So, you ready to say goodbye to actually being able to run outside in February” Tobin asked as she playfully bumped shoulders with Christen as they set hip to hip in the sand.

  
“Ugh” Christen groans “Remind me why I said yes to moving to Portland for 8 months of the year, when I could be living in beautiful, balmy Manhattan Beach year round?”

Tobin grins “I heard the athletes there are stupid hot” which earns an eye roll from her girlfriend.

“Plus” Tobin adds this year will only by like 6 and half months cause of how many obligations you have down here.”

Christen slides her hand into Tobin’s “i don’t want to think about not being with you for 6 weeks, even if it is only a few days a time” as she leans her head against the soccer player’s broad shoulder.

Tobin squeezes her hand in response. They sit in silence for a few minutes, taking everything in around them, which is soon interrupted by the rumbling of Tobin’s stomach. 

“Alright, lets get you home and get you fed. I have that chicken marinating.” Christen pops up and wipes the back of her legs off before extending a hand down to her girlfriend to pull her up. The women take their time walking back to the condo, fingers threaded loosely as they cross the street. Tobin looks both ways and notices a few people on rollerblades, and she unlinks her hand with Christen’s and places it lightly on the small of her back, but moves it off as the rollerbladers pass them.

The action makes Christen’s heart clench, but she ignores it, knowing it’s not the time or place for this conversation and she should wait till there home. Christen knew this conversation was on the horizon. They have talked briefly about their openness with their sexuality. Neither of them were hiding who they were or people they have been in relationships with, but because they both had such small social media footprints, and didn’t love attention, they never thought it was necessary or anyone’s business to officially come out. 

More people knew Christen was gay because of her rather public break up, but Tobin was always a “is she or isn’t she?” There was speculation (which proved to be true) about a relationship with Shirley Cruz when she played with PSG and speculation (which proved to be very false) about a relationship with Alex Morgan. Tobin wasn’t ashamed of who she was by any means, but she also had a big journey with her sexuality and her faith, so the idea of cultivating a narrative for others to harp on didn’t feel right.

She didn’t want every interview she ever had to talk about how she was gay, she wanted to talk about soccer, and equal pay, and investment in youth leagues, and development in the US system. She was concerned if she came out then she would become her sexuality and no longer be Tobin.

Christen felt differently. She definitely didn’t want the media attention for being out, but she did want to celebrate her relationship with Tobin more publicly. Tobin is such a bright spot in her life and she’s finally truly happy not only in herself but in love as well and she wants to be able to spread that love with and to others. She is a believer that feelings and emotions are contagious, for good and for bad, and she wants to use her platform to spread love contagiously. In fact, she had an interview this week with ESPN about her comeback, and her being a big ticket name for the Paribas Open which would be her first open event since her injury.

She wanted to use this interview as a time to talk openly about her relationship with Tobin, to let the world in a bit, but she knew they had to have a conversation about it first, and time was running out, she would have to bring it up tonight.

Under an hour later, she finds herself sitting at the dining room table, across from Tobin who is joyfully telling her a story about a particularly interesting night out with some national teammates, “And then Pinoe, who we all thought had gotten removed from the bar by the bouncer, shows up out of nowhere with a thumbtack and one of those wristbands you get when you’re old enough to drink at an 18+ club. It was wild.”

Evidently, Christen’s plastered on smile and eager nod of the head didn’t fool Tobin. 

“Alright babe, what’s up? You have been zoning in and out all dinner. Everything okay?”

Here goes nothing, Christen thinks, as she doesn’t really see a way out of it.

“Umm, yeah sorry, I am just lost in my thoughts and I kind of need to talk to you about something” she says with her eyes cast down at her plate and her fork slowly shifting the few spare pieces of lettuce left there.

She feels Tobin slide her chair closer to her’s and the soccer player reaches out to take her hand, “Chris, you can tell me anything.”

In that moment, she knows Tobin is telling the truth and while Christen knows you can tell her anything, she is not sure Tobin wants to hear everything. Alas, she takes a deep breath.

“So you know how I have that interview with ESPN on Thursday?” Tobin nods. “Well, it’s with this reporter who I’ve known forever, Grace, and she and I have a really good report and she does right by me in all my interviews.”

“Okay” Tobin says as her eyebrows scrunch together.

“Well, anyways, I want to be able to do right by her, ya know? Kind of show her gratitude for being so great with me through all the shit I’ve been through. I always felt like if I HAD an interview to give that I would give it to Grace.”

Tobin tilts her head at Christen, “Wait, is this just not a normal interview? I thought you were just doing a piece on how you’re back and getting ready for the open circuit.”

“Well, I mean it is, yeah for sure, but I also thought that maybe I could talk um about us.” She finishes the thought on a whisper and braces herself for what’s next.

Tobin stiffens a little bit, her thumb which was gently rubbing the back of Christen’s hand goes still.

Christen begins to falter, “I know this wasn’t something we had talked about before and I know we aren’t hiding our relationship by any means, and there are already speculations floating around, but I feel a desire to own who we are to each other and what we are to each other. Ya know? Like make it more real or whatever?”

Tobin’s eyebrows scrunch together, “You feel like we aren’t real because you haven’t told a reporter about us?”

Christen’s stomach flips as she begins to backtrack, “No, Tobs, not at all. Our relationship is the realist thing. The most real. I know that…I just”

Tobin cuts her off, “So why does it matter if it's officially out there? If it's real for us and real for those around us, does it matter if the whole world officially knows that Tobin Heath and Christen Press are together? I mean what’s the endgame here except for the two of us having to talk about how not only are we female athletes, but we are dating a female athlete for the rest of our career?”

Christen feels like she has lost all control of the conversation, “I don’t think it would be for the rest of our careers, Tobin. Sure, it would be big news for a little bit, but then it would just become normal. Wouldn’t that be nice? We could be more open in public, post about each other on social media, show our fans that you can love whoever you want and people shouldn’t be ashamed of that. I am not ashamed of you, Tobin. I am not ashamed of me.”

Tobin’s head drops a little bit as she whispers, “This has nothing to do with shame, Chris. I am beyond bonkers in love with you and love being with you. I just...it’s just for me...with social media and reporters...I just can’t...I don’t want….can’t this be just for us? Can’t we just drive our own narrative and not feel the need to be icons or spokespeople? I just want you, babe. All that other stuff is so secondary.”

“I just want you, too” Christen say quietly and the way that Tobin’s eyes soften at her statement, it’s obvious Christen didn’t know what returning the sentiment truly meant.

Tobin leans over and gently kisses Christen on the cheek, “I love you, Chris.”

The soccer player pushes her chair back from the table and grabs their empty plates, “I am going to shower quickly and then I’ll do the dishes since you cooked.” She walks towards the kitchen and begins whistling as if the conversation was over and never happened.

Leaving Christen at the table, spinning her rings around her fingers.

“Damn it.”

***.

Tobin had been back in Portland for about a month, all things considered the off season in LA was just what the doctor order literally and figuratively. She and Christen got to spend a ton of time together, when the tennis player wasn’t taking weekend excursions to play tournaments or train. Tobin got to catch up national team friends, get medical attention from a staff she trusted, and spend a ton of time on the beach.

Overall, a good few months.

But, now, she was back in full form with the Thorns and gearing up for a big Friday night throwdown at Providence Park. The training staff was being incredibly cautious with Tobin’s return from injury, she had debuted in their preseason match with the Red Stars, coming off the bench and getting a solid 20 minutes in. She felt good and ready, but was grateful to have some time to ease back in. Their opening game was actually down in Utah where she subbed on at half time to play a 45. Progress was good, she even assisted Lindsey on the final goal of the match. And, after a bye week, they were finally playing back at Providence Park and Tobin would be getting the start.

Even more exciting, she was wearing the captain’s armband, since Sincy picked up a knock in training this week. 

Even MORE exciting, Christen was coming into town after traveling for 3 straight weeks, and Tobin was itching to see her girlfriend. They had some sporadic communication while Christen was traveling - it was always difficult being in different time zones and balancing their crazy schedules. Christen had recently competed in the Miami Open and had advanced through to the third round, before losing to Venus Williams, her idol, so as long as they shook hands she was okay.

The tennis player seems to have really found her groove back on the court. She adjusted her style of play since returning from injury and she was getting a lot of buzz in the sports world. The ESPN Magazine issue with her as the cover story was coming out today and Tobin was eager to head to the store to buy out every copy. 

Walking into the corner store, Tobin immediately beelined for the magazine rack and there staring back at her was her girlfriend’s cool green eyes, well eye. The cover photo was a zoomed in photo of truly just Christen’s face, covered by her own hands, full of her signature rings, and one green eye peeking out through her long fingers. 

Tobin knew how gorgeous Christen was, I mean, duh she got the real life version all the time, but seeing this photo took her breath away. The headline read, ‘The Unmasking of Press: The Return of a Tennis Superstar’. The clerk definitely gave Tobin a funny look when she bought all 20 issues of the magazine, but didn’t ask any questions and she quickly made her way back to the apartment to dig into the story.

Christen gave her the reader’s digest version of the interview, but teased that Tobin would have to wait just like the rest of the world, and here was her chance. She flopped down on her couch and dug in, admiring the different photos of Christen from the shoot. Many were her in tennis clothes, holding a racket or posing looking tough. They were some goofier ones, like her caught mid attempt at juggling three tennis balls with a huge smile on her face. Tobin’s heart beat loudly in her chest looking at them.

The article was beautifully written, it read more like two friends talking. Tobin immediately understood why Christen felt comfortable with Grace - their report oozed out of every word. Much of the story Tobin knew. All about Christen’s fighting through the mental blockage of getting back on the court, the phantom pain in her elbow, the shutting out of the people who cared. Tobin was so impressed with her girlfriend’s honesty and openness. She could see how people reading this article who might be going through something could relate to Christen and find strength in her words and experience. It was so real.

Shoot. 

Real. The word triggered the memory of the conversation around this interview back in Manhattan Beach. Where Tobin questioned Christen’s intention with talking about their relationship with Grace. Didn’t understand her need to share. Didn’t want the attention. Didn’t want the narrative. Tobin made it all about herself and didn’t realize what it meant for Christen or the hundreds of thousands of people who might read this.

It wasn’t about Tobin, at all. She kept reading,

_ “I remember the first time I interviewed Christen Press. A shy, unknown out of the tennis academy, just getting her feet wet on the big tour. She looked at her agent before answering every question, struggled to maintain eye contact with me, and incessantly fiddled with the rings on her fingers, which have now become an iconic showpiece of the tennis player. But, that day in a dark warehouse out on the outskirts of LA, sitting in two glorified bean bag chairs, sipping on iced tea, it was like I met with a whole new person. The young caterpillar had finally become this glorious butterfly. Much has changed about her presence from her posture to her clothing to her general demeanor, the only thing that is the same are those rings, though it does seem like they may have gotten a little more expensive. _

_ “So, Press, in the past 12 months you went from being a recluse to bursting back on the tennis scene. Pardon the familiarity, but what the hell happened, girl?” Presses beautiful laugh echoes through the warehouse as she beams at me and shrugs, “The universe finally aligned for me, I guess. I spent my whole career solely focused on me. What I was doing for me. What others were doing for me. How my training impacted me. My eating. My social life. Me me me. And about a year ago, after all the highs and lows of the injury, I realized that by focusing on me, I was drowning myself. I wasn’t even giving myself a fighting chance to survive. I was self sabotaging.” _

_ “How did that change?” I asked innocently expecting that she would recommend meditation, or yoga, or credit a particularly good sports psychologist, but her eyes sparkled in a way I had never seen in our close to 10 years of knowing one another. _

_ She shrugs again and smiles, taking a small sip of her tea, “Grace, do you believe in the abundance of our world?” _

_ Press does this a lot in interviews, she will knock me out with a smile and then ask me a question which I certainly have no answer to, so I just look at her waiting for her to continue. _

_ “A year ago, I felt like my sources were finite. There was only so much pie to go around, so I needed the biggest piece. Then it all changed. I found the abundance. I found the infinite ways to be a better version of myself, not for myself, but for others. Finding that abundance, allowing it to seep into me, allowed me to stop drowning and start swimming.” _

_ “And what helped you find that abundance?” _

_ “It’s not a what, it’s a who.”  _

_ Then that was that. And believe me folks, I PUSHED. I asked, I prodded, I pleaded, but Christen was resolute in her abstention from the question. She would smirk and giggle at my futile attempts, changing the subject to her new methods of training, her regular meditation practice, her excited for the upcoming BNP qualification, but whenever I went back to the question of who is it, she just smiled, and said “For now, I will keep that just for us.” _

_ All this reporter can say is wow, whoever this person is for Christen Press, thank you. It seems because of you she is infinite.” _

Tobin couldn’t get the words of the article out of her head, as she made her way onto the field for pregame warmups. She must have re-read the thing 30 times before finally having to drag herself to the car to get going. Even with the game looming, her mind was all on her girlfriend.

To be fair, her mind was on her girlfriend a lot but this was different. 

Warm-ups went fine, but she knew deep down she needed to compartmentalize, or the game was going to be a struggle for her. She needed to focus for the next two hours, just on soccer, and when Christen got home that night, they could talk. As she walked towards the front of the starting line up to walk into Providence Park, Lindsey grabbed her hand, “Gonna follow you blindly tonight, Cap.”

And with those words, she ran out to the field. Ready to lead.

The first half was a grind, a physical back and forth match, with the ball rarely leaving the midfield for either team. The Thorns had a few chances in their scoring third, but the pesky Sky Blue defense was able to hold them at bay. Parsons was positive at half time, saying the first game at home was always full of excitement and they needed to turn the energy from jitters to force. The 11 took the field for the second half with a new sense of purpose.

With about 20 minutes left in the second half, the Thorns had a comfortable 2-0 lead after some dominant set pieces that ended in a Lindsey header and laser from the top of the 18 by Kling. A Sky Blue player was down with cramps, so the Thorns were by their bench getting water.

“Hey” Sonnet said from behind Tobin “Tobs, I didn’t think Chris would be at the game today.”

“She’s not” Tobin said as she turned around to face away from the pitch and towards the defender “Her flight lands tonight at 10:30.”

“Huh, she must have a twin then.” Sonnet shrugged and jogged back onto the field, where the ref was getting ready to put the ball in play.

Tobin didn’t register her words, but quickly glanced towards the players box above the screaming crowds, and there she was. Waving a bit frantically at Tobin and then putting her hands together in a heart shape right over her own chest.

Tobin smiled widely and made her way back to the pitch.

The rest of the game flew by and blew right by Tobin who after seeing Christen in the stands couldn’t focus for anything. Luckily, she got away with being a link up player in the midfield, but eventually Mark took her off with 10 minutes left to get some other people minutes. She immediately went over to a PR person and whispered in their ear. With a quick nod, the person took off down the tunnel.

Tobin stayed engaged with the game from the sideline, giving her younger teammates encouragement and continuing to lead. It always felt nice to win and it felt even better to win at home. The Riveters were the greatest fans, and as the final whistle blew, the stadium exploded in cheers. The Thorns got their roses and bowed to the crowd, and milled around the field for a bit signing autographs.

Tobin’s eyes kept drifting back to the players tunnel, where eventually she saw a familiar face. She immediately waved Christen onto the pitch, and the tennis player looked around hesitantly before stepping out. Tobin jogged over to her and met her on the sideline. The stadium was still full of thousands of fans and press personnel and photographers, but it was like Tobin only had eyes for Christen.

“Great game, superstar” Christen said as Tobin approached. She could have said anything, it wasn’t as if Tobin was listening. Instead, Tobin wrapped Christen up in a bone crushing hug before pulling back and capturing her lips in a heated kiss. Both women lost themselves a bit in the kiss. Likely from not seeing each other for 3 weeks but also the heightened moment. Camera bulbs were flashing everywhere, but it was like they were all alone.

Once Christen pulled back, Tobin immediately rested her forehead against the tennis player’s.

“What was that for?” Christen asked with a smile.

“You make me feel infinite, too.”


End file.
